All For the Sake of Pleasure | By : Kanemoshi Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kakashi/Iruka Views: 8217 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters and did not make any money from creating this story. |
Authoress: Forgive me for taking so long to update! Please enjoy the second to last chapter of All For the Sake of Pleasure!
Chapter Forty Two
Sasuke leaned against the doorway, his eyesight going in and out of focus as he fought against sleep. He had spent who knows how long watching over Kakashi. It seemed like an eternity that he stood there, numbly watching a man who was far too pale even for his naturally colorless complexion. He would say it looked like his old sensei was just sleeping, but no one should be that still. No one should look so bloodless…so lifeless. It was as though Kakashi was frozen in time as the rest of the world continued to spin around them.
He took a deep, shaking breath as he leaned more of his weight against the door frame, too exhausted to even stand on his own two feet but refusing to rest for even a moment.
A man who was more brother to him now than Itachi could ever have been, Kakashi had meant the world to him for so many years, it seemed impossible to imagine a life without him. And yet one of the most important people to him now lay a mere ten feet away, fighting for his life. Last Tsunade informed him, Kakashi was through the worst of it. They were able to heal his wounds and pump enough blood back into him to make up for the loss. But there were some things that not even Tsunade could fix. There were some wounds that no medic could ever touch.
Naruto and his team had been gone for at least a day in search of Iruka – in search of an explanation. At least, Sasuke guessed it had been a day since he had last seen his fiancé. But the hours blurred together in a monotony of the sounds and smells of a hospital. For all he knew, it could have been a week that he stood here, refusing to pull his attention away from his best friend except to let his mind race as he tried to think of a reason Kakashi would be on the verge of death and his husband not at his side.
Kakashi was unconscious by the time he appeared in the hospital. Amidst the chaos, it was hours before Naruto and Sasuke were informed that their brother-in-law had been dropped into the hospital half-dead. As soon as word reached them, Naruto threw a team together and raced off to find Iruka. Sasuke had not heard from his fiancé since.
Sasuke had opted to stay behind, not because he did not want to go on the mission, but he felt one of them should stay here with Kakashi for when he came to. One of them needed to stay behind with Saki and Keiko. If he could have, he would have raced off with Naruto. Iruka meant more to him than words could describe and this waiting was tearing at him. Orochimaru's years of torture were child's play in comparison to the hours upon hours of standing here, helpless. His family was falling apart around him, and there was nothing the genius could do. Years of training, of fighting and surviving the worst horrors imaginable could not have prepared him for this.
What could have happened? The shields protecting Iruka and Kakashi had been perfect. There was no way someone could have gotten near them, much less try to kill Kakashi. But how else could he explain the jounin's sudden appearance and condition?
How could someone get close enough to harm his family? Naruto had checked the area thoroughly when Iruka had summoned him – there was no sign of the seals weakening. There were no clues or tracks from an attacker which Naruto could find. His fiancé's inhuman instincts had not picked up anything – no strange, unfamiliar scents or sounds or chakra lingering in the area.
When Naruto had appeared with their hysterical nephew in his arms the other day, he had said with certainty that Iruka and Kakashi were fine. He had checked and rechecked to make sure his brothers were safe. There was no way Naruto could have missed something. He knew his fiancé was, at times, a little scatterbrained and not always the brightest crayon in the box, but Naruto would never put the lives of his family in danger. If there had been anything that made him uneasy, he would have dragged Iruka and Kakashi back without hesitation. If there was anything that made the Kyuubi nervous, Naruto would not have cared how much his brother argued with him. He would have brought Iruka and Kakashi back, kicking and screaming, if he even for an instant thought they were in danger.
Sasuke turned and looked to the small brunet sitting on a nearby chair. Saki giggled as his finger was snatched by his tiny cousin. Keiko smiled, her toothy grin so much like her father's that it tugged at the jounin's very heart. With anyone else, Sasuke would have been hesitant to let them hold his squirmy, powerful daughter, but he had no qualms resting his child in that toddler's lap. Saki was one of the very few people Sasuke trusted completely with his precious daughter. The boy, not even two years old, had the reflexes and self-control of a seasoned shinobi.
Saki was so much more mature than his physical age, it was difficult sometimes to recall just how young he was. He was still a baby and yet he could perform some of the most complex jutsu in the shinobi world. He spoke in short sentences, yet his eyes betrayed the intellect trapped in his tiny body. He would be a handful in a few years, when he could articulate himself better, when he could run and jump like any other child.
Sasuke watched the two children, a saddened smile pulling at his lips. Did Saki understand what was happening? Could he appreciate the severity of the situation? Did he even comprehend what a hospital was? The little genius was frighteningly intelligent, but could he make sense of all of this? Or was he still too young to understand life and death? Fear? Evil?
Hands that once reflexively killed thousands now trembled with terror as he thought about the men who had become his family. He had respected Iruka when he was back in the academy, but he had not known the gentle, forgiving, wholly wonderful man who had raised Naruto. He had, for so many years, just known him as the only teacher who would spare him a smile and a kind word when Sasuke was so determined to shut the rest of the world out. Similarly, he had known nothing of Kakashi other than his reputation while being trained by the Copy Cat Ninja. He had known the warrior, the genius, and the pervert – but he had never looked beneath to see the lost, lonely soul who was so desperate to save Sasuke from himself.
He had wasted so many years because of his own pride and stubbornness. He could have had the chance to grow up around such amazing men – but he had thrown that chance away. But these past few years since returning to the village, he had tried to make up for lost time. He had come to yearn for Iruka's kind words and tight hugs even when he grew uncomfortable with the emotions Iruka brought out in him. He had grown so accustomed to Kakashi's quiet, calming presence that his ex-teacher was the only person Sasuke went to see whenever he and Naruto had another fight. Those two had somehow wormed their way into Sasuke's icy, guarded heart over the past few years, long before Iruka and Kakashi slept together that fateful night.
They had come to mean as much to him as Naruto and Keiko did – and Sasuke had never once told either of them.
And now, he may never get the chance. The lives of two of his most precious people hung in the balance. Sasuke took a shaky breath of air as he leaned his forehead against the wall. It hurt to care for others. He had grown up an orphan without any need for emotion, and then evolved into a monster who felt nothing – except for a strange warm feeling in his chest whenever he saw a certain high-spirited blonde. Everything was so much easier when he felt nothing. Everything was simpler when his world was black and white.
Sasuke pushed away from the wall, pulling his eyes away from the softly giggling children to look back at one man who had been strong enough to save him from destroying himself. Kakashi was one of the most powerful shinobi in the world…what kind of monster could do this to him? What kind of horror had he dealt with? What was it Iruka chose to face alone?
A sickening knot tightened in his stomach as Sasuke recalled the unspeakable atrocities he had once committed. How many times had he ripped apart families just like this? How many times had he left children orphaned? How many beloved spouses had he torn from this earth, leaving a partner or children to mourn them? How much damage had he done in the name of power?
The fact he never knowingly harmed a pregnant woman did nothing to alleviate the self-disgust that tore at him. Naruto had told him so many times that he was no longer that person that those words became a quiet mantra in the jounin's head, reminding him that he had changed – that that part of him was dead. For the first time, however, the memory of his fiancé's words did not help.
Sasuke found himself sliding down the wall to the floor, his legs too weak to support his weight. Unconsciously, he pulled his knees up to his chest, as though they would somehow guard him from the onslaught of guilt. Even as he dropped his head against his knees, his shoulders began to shake with the first silent sobs. He should have been there to help protect Kakashi. He should have fought to keep Iruka and Kakashi in the village. He should have told them long ago just how much they meant to him. He should have been there to take Iruka's place.
Hearing a commotion down the hall, Sasuke mustered the strength to lift his head. He did not bother to brush the loose strands of hair away from his eyes. The raven curtain was just thick enough to hide his puffy eyes from the group of shinobi walking towards him. Sasuke could see beyond those dark strands well enough to see their painfully robotic movements. He looked up as one jounin separated from the pack, his shuffling steps taking him to stand in front of the Uchiha.
Sasuke did not have to look into the jounin's reddened eyes to find the answer to the question he refused to put words to. The fact one wonderful, loving brunet was not at the blonde's side was more of an answer than Sasuke was prepared for.
Almost mechanically, he moved to stand up. Perhaps he was too numb, but he could not even muster any tears as he lifted a hand to brush against a scarred cheek. Slowly, a pair of dulled blue eyes focused on him. Sasuke could not form the words as he gently wiped a thumb against his fiancé's dirt-streaked face.
"Their attacker is dead…"
Sasuke then registered the dirt that covered Naruto from head to toe, painting the normally colorful jounin a dull, grey color. It was not dirt, but ash. Sasuke glanced to the rest of the silent shinobi and saw the same monotonous shade covering them. A large fire? An explosion perhaps? Despite he felt his heart cracking, he found a laugh lodge its way into his throat. Iruka always did like using small, controlled explosions to get his students' attention in the academy.
At least it was quick. He didn't suffer.
That knowledge did nothing to ease the pain kindling in his chest as Sasuke wiped at his fiancé's grey cheek, only to find Naruto's skin was an unhealthy, pale shade. As though the gentle touch roused him from a dream, the blonde's gaze cleared and his eyebrows knotted together – the only sign of emotion on his face.
"I…It's my fault…" Naruto whispered, his tone unnaturally even. Sasuke winced at the lack of feeling in those words. He did not recognize that voice as that of his fiancé. It was too dull; too cold. That emotionless façade hurt him far more than if Naruto had attacked him, rightfully blaming Sasuke for everything. In that moment, he wanted his fiancé to lash out – to attack him physically and unleash some of the emotions that he must be hiding away. He knew that side of Naruto all too well, but he had no idea how to handle the nearly comatose jounin before him.
Slowly, he took a step towards the motionless blonde, his fingers sliding down the tightened, trembling muscles in his fiancé's arms to clenched fists. His entire world seemed to be falling down around him as Sasuke bowed his head, resting it on Naruto's broad shoulder. For a small reminder of something familiar, Sasuke worked his fingers into that powerful fist until he was able to intertwine their fingers. Even as he squeezed gently, a new flood of tears blinded him. The Uchiha recognized the tiny, warm piece of metal digging into his palm as Naruto returned the gesture.
"I…I can't…I…can't...tell…him…" the future Hokage whimpered. Sasuke winced as emotion finally bled into Naruto's words, cracking his deep voice and wringing a soft sob from the Uchiha. Suddenly, powerful arms were around him, crushing him against a shaking chest. Sasuke could only hold him as Naruto let out a strangled cry, their world crashing down around them.
XXX
Sasuke looked up, barely registering the sound of his own name other than dully realizing someone was trying to get his attention. He was too numb to feel any surprise as the Hokage knelt down so she was eye-to-eye with him. For a moment, he glanced over to his fiancé and smiled weakly when he saw the powerful jounin cradling their daughter against his chest. From the demonic aura pouring from the blonde, people knew better than to ask if he wanted someone else to hold Keiko for a while. Naruto was not going to let go of their precious child until hell froze over or the world started making sense again – neither of which seemed very likely right now. He wouldn't let go of his daughter until he knew she would be safe and that someone wouldn't steal her away like they had his brother.
"Sasuke?" He turned back at the Hokage's gentle, questioning tone. He gave her a blank stare, not sure what she could possibly want with him. "Kakashi…he's starting to come around…"
She did not have to elaborate. Someone had to be there to tell him. Someone had to take the risk of being slaughtered by the Copy Cat Ninja simply because they were the messenger. Sasuke nodded slowly. It was better he or Naruto told him and, from his fiancé's pleading, Sasuke knew there was no way Naruto would tell Kakashi the news. Naruto would rather lie and keep his and Kakashi's dreams alive than say those three simple words.
Iruka is dead.
So simple, yet…Sasuke had never done something more difficult in his entire life. His legs felt like they were weighted with lead as he moved to stand from the hospital chair. Others may call Naruto a coward for refusing to be the bearer of bad news, but Sasuke knew better. Somewhere in his fiancé's heart, there was still the impossible dream Iruka was alive. Admitting he was gone would only destroy what little hope Naruto had. And, losing that hope by accepting the death his brother, the man who had raised him, would be more than Naruto could bear.
Sasuke would do anything to save Naruto from that kind of pain, even if it meant he had to admit the horrible truth aloud, something he still wasn't sure he was capable of.
He dragged his feet across the floor as he looked into the palm of his hand and studied the one object Naruto had brought back from the wreckage. He may have been near catatonic for the past several hours since his fiancé returned, but he had overheard others speaking, unconsciously cataloging information for when he was better prepared to deal with reality. He knew that others on the mission had brought back what remained of Kakashi and Iruka's attacker…but all they found of Iruka under the fallen trees and piles of ash was that tiny, gnarled piece of metal. The resulting heat of the explosion had made sure to erase its original form, leaving behind a horrible mockery of who Iruka had once been.
Sasuke was studying the piece of silver so intently, he bumped into someone. Looking up, he was surprised to see an odd pair of black eyes studying him with an emotion the jounin could not place. Sasuke found himself frozen in place as his eyes followed the tall man's hand as it gingerly picked up the bit of metal from his palm.
"We live in a world of death, but it is always hard to make sense of it…to say goodbye." Sasuke furrowed his eyebrows; he had never heard the man speak so solemnly, but apparently his rare moment of sanity was not yet finished. "…but we continue to fight…so that, one day, years from now, we can go peacefully in our sleep knowing we bettered the world. If that's not an option…dying for those we love – for those who mean more to us than life itself...it is the best death I could wish for anyone."
Sasuke watched through blurry eyes as the Green Beast of Konoha continued that slow, painful trek into Kakashi's hospital room. Taking one final look at the door as it closed, Sasuke knew no words would be enough to thank the older shinobi for his kindness.
XXX
The first thing he noticed was the gentle, soft beeping that mirrored his slow heartbeat. The next was the cool, scentless air rushing into his nose. If he focused his attention, he could taste the bitterness of disinfectant in the air. He had woken up enough times to this exact scenario, his first instinct was not a question of what had happened this time, but a fierce desire to be away from this hellhole.
Slowly, he cracked open his natural eye, surveying the room for any nurse or doctor who might tattle to Tsunade if he were to sneak out of the hospital. When he saw his best friend staring out the room's sole window, Kakashi raised an eyebrow. Gai usually visited him in the hospital only if it was really bad – otherwise, the Green Beast knew to look for Kakashi back at his apartment within the hour.
Kakashi shifted, trying to sit up, and let out a hiss as a shot of agony hit him in the abdomen. Weakly, he lifted an arm to feel along his middle. He wrenched his hand away the moment he felt the thick bandages around his midsection. Had Asuma nicked him with his chakra blades again? He shook that thought from his head as he recalled his chain-smoking friend had been dead for years now. What the hell did Tsunade knock him out with this time that his mind was so muddled?
Any thoughts of finding his tranquilizer-happy Hokage vanished as Gai turned away from the window, having obviously heard Kakashi trying to sit up. The instant he recognized the twin silvery streaks down the jounin's cheeks for what they were, he remembered why he was here. A shot of pain hit him as he checked his abdomen for the two tiny flickers of chakra he had become so accustomed to. Logic told him what he would find, but it still tore at him all the same as he failed to locate those energy signatures. Refusing to mourn for his children, he channeled his emotions into one he felt comfortable showing his best friend.
"YOU LYING BASTARD!"
Gai actually jumped at his snarl – or perhaps it was the bolt of chakra Kakashi managed to fire at him before he weakly fell back against his pillows, completely drained of chakra. However, he still had his physical strength, powered by an unholy rage. Too bad for Gai, he did not realize that until he rushed over to the bed to check on Kakashi and suddenly found himself on the floor, a pair of powerful hands around his neck.
"You lying son of a bitch!" Kakashi snapped as his hands unconsciously tightened around Gai's neck. It would be so easy; Gai wasn't even putting up a fight. It was not out of an admission of guilt that the Green Beast wasn't fighting back; no, from the saddened pity in his best friend's eyes, Kakashi knew there was something else. But he kept his hands around his neck all the same, putting just enough pressure that Gai couldn't speak and interrupt him. "You said they were dead…all of them! You told me you killed them! You promised me Takeshi was gone! Y-You promised me!" Still weak from his injuries, Kakashi fell back on his heels as he gasped for air.
From the widening of Gai's eyes, he had not been aware of the attacker's identity. But certainly Iruka would have told Gai of all people who the bastard was as soon as a team was sent to help him. Iruka would have had just about every shinobi in the village running to his aid the minute Kakashi was transported to the village. Kakashi had no doubt a veritable army of shinobi had gone to protect his husband and slaughter that bastard Takeshi. Kakashi had first-hand seen his husband's impressive defense. All he had to do was fight off that monster for a few minutes. Iruka would have been fine for a few minutes. In the heat of battle – and dying of blood loss and a broken heart after the loss of two of his children – Kakashi had been melodramatic, assuring himself one of them was going to die. Now, with a clearer mind, he knew Iruka would have been safe. Gai being here meant the search parties were back – Kakashi knew his best friend well enough to know the Green Beast would have been racing Naruto to get to Iruka first.
It was then Kakashi, still straddling his best friend and maintaining his hold around the Green Beast's neck, looked around for his husband. But Iruka wasn't in the room. Strange, Kakashi was sure the brunet would have been a complete wreck and refusing to leave his side. The only reason Kakashi was so calm at the moment was he had a lifetime of suppressing his emotions so no one knew he could feel. When he was alone with Iruka, he would let himself break down. Then, he could mourn for his children. For now, he could live in such severe denial that he felt nothing except hatred towards Gai and a growing concern for his husband.
Perhaps Iruka was with Saki. Kakashi could understand not letting Saki in and scaring the toddler with all of the wires and machines that Kakashi had been hooked up to until he attacked Gai. Kakashi glanced down at the his hands, not surprised to see he had ripped the needles out of his veins and was now bleeding all over Gai. Served him right for lying to Kakashi all these years.
It was a good thing Iruka was always thinking ahead and keep their remaining child outside the room. Saki would probably be terrified of his father for weeks after seeing Kakashi attack Gai. It took all of his concentration and chakra to sense his son's unique energy out in the hallway. From the other energies he could sense, Sasuke, Naruto and Keiko were there as well. But Iruka was not.
Getting annoyed with whatever game Gai was playing, the jounin focused all of his attention back on his best friend. He glared angrily at the taller man as he tightened his hold on Gai's neck, just enough to begin cutting off air supply. Gai did not fight back; he merely laid there and looked at Kakashi with sorrow.
"Where's Iruka?" Kakashi asked slowly, his tone serious. A single tear slipped from Gai's watery eyes as the taller jounin tried to shake his head, but could only make small jerking movements with Kakashi's hands around his neck.
"Where…is Iruka?" Kakashi asked again, his fingers loosening their hold just enough that Gai could speak.
"K-Kakashi..." the Green Beast gasped hoarsely as several more teardrops joined the first on the trek down his face. "We…we didn't know…you were here…f-for hours…d-doctors didn't know…you were…in hiding…alone…"
Hours. Not minutes...hours.
Kakashi shook his head, the blood draining from his face as he thought of the implications of those few, hoarse, halting words. He could only imagine the chaos his appearance caused the hospital. An unconscious, half-dead, very recently pregnant shinobi bleeding out on their floor. Not just any shinobi – one of the most powerful in their village. He was important enough that he should have had bodyguards when in such a condition – why would they think to inform anyone when they were certain others already knew about the attack? Tsunade would have been too busy saving his life to mount a search party. She would have assumed someone else had gone to find Naruto and Sasuke…
Hours. Hours had gone by before anyone thought to wonder where Kakashi's husband was. Hours before they would have looked for Naruto, Sasuke, Gai – someone who might be able to find his missing partner. Hours where Iruka had been on his own, fending off Takeshi.
"Where…Where is Iruka?" Kakashi's serious tone faltered, worry finally creeping into his voice as his fingers began to shake, unconsciously losing their grip around Gai's neck. Gai did not have to answer. The unspoken apology in his eyes was enough. "N-No…" Kakashi quietly denied the truth of those tears staining Gai's cheeks. A cold dread began gnawing at his belly, making its way up into his chest where it squeezed at his heart, shredding everything in its path. "You're...wrong…" Kakashi whispered as he shook his head, refusing to believe the horrible fact.
But having Gai here –and not Iruka – was proof enough.
"You're wrong!" Kakashi snapped, anger overtaking him for a moment as he lifted his friend up by his vest and slammed Gai back down onto the floor. "No, you're wrong! He's not…You're lying!" With each cry, another loud thwack echoed through the room, the last ending in a sickening crack as the floorboards beneath Gai finally gave out under the force of the repeated blows. Kakashi was about to snarl and shake Gai some more when he heard the faint sound of something metal hit the floor. Momentarily distracted, he looked for the source of the noise.
When he found it, Gai's vest slipped from his numb fingers. Kakashi barely registered his friend slumping back to the floor, the last hit probably knocking him unconscious for a little while. All that mattered was the small misshapen ball of metal that had rolled out of Gai's limp hand. A soft sound escaped from his lips as he brought a trembling hand to touch the twisted and crumpled silver ring. So malformed, it was almost impossible to appreciate what it was, but Kakashi would recognize the glint of that band of diamonds anywhere, even if it was covered in ash and melted into an amorphous form. How could he not when he had painstakingly chosen it and spent every day since admiring it on the man who had accepted it…and him. Since the day Kakashi slipped it on his finger, Iruka had refused to take his engagement ring off except to clean it.
In that moment, he knew Gai had not been lying. There was no reason Iruka would voluntarily take off his ring, much less allow it to be destroyed.
Blood rushed in his ears, but how could it when he was sure his heart no longer was beating? How could it when its reason for being was gone? His fingers brushed against the metal, too afraid to pick up the malformed piece of jewelry. If he did not hold it, he could deny what it signified. He could ignore the icy hand that gripped his heart, making it difficult to breathe. But damn his logical mind and its refusal to pretend – if just for a little while – that he would ever see Iruka again.
"I am so sorry." Gai's soft words barely registered in his mind other than noting that he had not killed his best friend in anger. He wasn't sure if he was glad or angry at that realization. All that he knew was that Iruka was not there. His husband's kind, gentle voice was not there to reassure him. The brunet's beautiful smile was not there to warm his frozen body. Iruka's arms were not there to hold him as his world fell apart. He would never again hear that infectious laughter. He would never again taste those lips. Perhaps worst of all, for the rest of his life, Kakashi would never be able to enjoy the simple pleasure of being in his presence. He could never watch Iruka dance around the kitchen when he thought no one was watching. He would never again have the chance to sneak into Iruka's classes, hidden from the view of the pre-genin, but from the tiny smile that tugged at his husband's lips, Iruka always knew when he was there. He would never again wake up just to watch his husband sleep.
He had no idea when the tears began to fall, only that his face was soaked and his throat raw from his soft cries. Kakashi somehow tore his gaze from the blurry image of his husband's ring to look up at Gai as his friend crouched down next to him. "H-He…can't…" Kakashi wanted to deny the truth his mind had already accepted. His heart was another matter entirely. Iruka couldn't be gone. Just a little while ago, Iruka had been in his arms. Iruka had been making fun of him for his clumsiness. Iruka had been right in front of him, protecting him, shielding him…saving him. And he had been too weak to dispel the transportation jutsu, much less reverse it so that it took Iruka instead of him. He had been too weak. He had been too slow. He hadn't been on guard when he was walking in the woods. He had been unprepared for the attack.
It was his fault. He was the reason Iruka and two of their children were dead. He killed Iruka. If only he had stayed away from Iruka two years ago. If he had just kept his distance after Saki was born…Iruka would still be alive. If he had lied and kept his feelings hidden, Iruka would have never been in danger. Iruka was never meant to be part of an elite jounin's violent life. He was supposed to be completely safe within the village, his life never threatened. He was meant to live a long, happy life teaching generation after generation of shinobi. But, in a moment of pure selfishness, Kakashi had taken what he secretly wanted for so long – a life outside of his profession, a family…someone to love. He didn't want to be alone anymore. And his love had killed Iruka.
"I…it's all my fault…" he whispered quietly, bowing his head as he clenched his eyes shut, but traitorous tears continued to trek down his face. He made no move to pull away as a hand cupped his cheek, forcing him to look up into Gai's eyes. It was only because of all their years together that he knew his best friend was angry at him for thinking such a thing.
"Iruka's death is not your fault…it is that monster's," Gai retorted softly as he wrapped his free arm around Kakashi's shaking frame. With a gentle tightening of that arm, Kakashi fell against his friend's chest, too weak to put up much of a fight. Burying his head against Gai's shoulder, he let out a muffled cry.
What had Takeshi done to Iruka? What horrific torture had he done before finally taking Iruka's life? What had he done that left Iruka's engagement ring a ball of silver and diamonds? How many hours had Iruka suffered? With nearly twenty years to perfect his methods, what kind of pain did Takeshi put Iruka through? And he had been the one to leave his husband alone with that monster.
"H-How?" Kakashi whispered, his voice cracking as he pulled away from Gai enough to look up into his face. Gai could not look him in the eye, instead bowing his head and focusing on the floor as his eyebrows furrowed. For the first time, Kakashi noticed an odd grey tinge to his friend's hair and uniform.
"Explosion," Gai said softly as a single tear slipped from his watery eyes. "Iruka…he took that thing with him…" Kakashi let out a cry at that. If anything, he wished Takeshi was still alive so that he could kill him himself. Now twice, that monster had ruined his life and he should be given the chance to return the favor – to slowly tear him apart, piece by piece, for taking Iruka's life and those of his unborn children. "We could…we could only find his ring…"
Kakashi froze at those words, a flicker of hope bringing his heart back to life. Without a body…there was still a chance Iruka was out there! There was the possibility Iruka got away – that his ring had fallen off for some other reason and that his husband was still alive. Gai could read his expression and, with a shake of his head, shattered his heart all over again.
"Nothing could have survived the blast…we were only able to find…pieces…too large to be Iruka…" Gai's words were clipped and unemotional, as though he was giving a mission report. It was then Kakashi understood just how much Iruka had meant to Gai. Just like with everyone else he met, Iruka had wormed his way into the Green Beast's heart. It was not the kind of shallow, bubbly friendship Gai had with everyone in the village – no, Iruka had become one of the very few Gai considered family. He was one of the four or five shinobi in the village Gai would have ever felt comfortable enough to reveal his true self to. But he had missed his chance to show Iruka the quiet shinobi who would drink himself into a stupor after every mission that ended in a death by his hands. Iruka would never meet the man who, even at their age, still had nightmares that left him unable to sleep for days at a time. Iruka would never catch a glimpse of the teen who had saved Kakashi, giving up years of his life to help a boy he didn't even know recover from the time he had spent in Takeshi's hands. Iruka would never learn that that idiotic, bouncy exterior was a shield to hide a very fragile, gentle heart from the world around them.
"Show me," Kakashi whispered softly as he weakly moved to stand, stumbling as his legs buckled underneath him. Kakashi did nothing to stop himself from falling. He did not have the energy, much less the desire to do so. His body was too numb to care anymore. What was one more bruise? One more broken bone? He doubted he would even feel it. The only thing that saved him was Gai's gentle yet firm grip plucking him out of midair. If he had the energy to do so, he would have fought against his best friend's coddling, but for the moment, he could only lean his head against Gai's chest and let out a shaky breath of air.
"You are in no condition to leave the hospital," Gai stated, his voice emotionless as he laid Kakashi back down on his bed. Moving to leave the room, Gai froze when Kakashi wrapped his hand around the taller man's wrist. He glanced down at the weak grip on his arm then to the jounin struggling to sit back up. "Perhaps when you are stronger…you need rest."
"P-Please?" Kakashi hissed as pain shot through his abdomen as he maneuvered himself into a seated position. Looking up at the man who, for so long, had been his only friend, Kakashi knew Gai understood his desire. Gai knew his heart would never give up hope. Every time the door opened, he would immediately expect to see Iruka on the other side. Every laugh he heard, every noise that woke him from sleep, a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye – he needed proof if he ever hoped to destroy the flicker of impossible hope that would otherwise eventually kill him. Kakashi barely caught the abrupt nod before the two jounin were ripped from the hospital in a burst of chakra.
Kakashi could tell the instant they were relocated to the place Iruka was…killed. A smell unlike anything he had ever experienced before flooded his nose, stinging his eyes and forcing him to keep them tightly closed. When he finally worked up the courage to open his watering eyes again, Kakashi discovered he couldn't see anything. The entire world before him was just a sea of monotonous grey. Slowly, other features began to filter into his vision. Several remnants of trees lay bent away from him, their bark and leaves long since burned away, leaving a blackened skeleton nestled in the ocean of grey ash that, even as he stood there, continued to fall from the sky, coating him until he was the same shade as Gai.
Whatever had caused the explosion, it was meant to destroy everything in its path. Kakashi looked up at the sky which was the same color as the rest of the world around them. The silence surrounding them was painful. Kakashi had no idea where they were without any landmark to go by, but he could recall the noises of the forest that had once existed here. The rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds…it was all gone. In one instant, an entire forest was erased from existence.
Despite the pain in his chest, Kakashi found himself laughing uncontrollably. It was not a happy sound that ended the silence. Raw, harsh barks of emotion echoed around them as Kakashi realized Iruka hadn't done this. Even in death, Takeshi had to destroy Kakashi's entire life. Never before did he hate his intelligence, but now his genius mind only made the truth glaringly obvious.
"He…he wasted…all his chakra to…transport me," Kakashi emphasized between his chuckles before those crazed, ravaged noises dissolved into agonized cries. "Iruka…he couldn't have…he couldn't have done this…" No, Takeshi, that bastard, had made sure that, even if Iruka somehow bested him, that he would kill a brunet who had only made the mistake of loving Kakashi. That monster had a dead man switch so that, the instant his chakra was no longer being fed to an explosive, it went off. Though, judging from the damage around them, the forest must have been littered with thousands of them.
It was such an underhanded and uncommon method, no one would have expected it, least of all an innocent academy teacher. Iruka wouldn't have stood a chance the moment Takeshi died and the first bombs began going off. Even if the explosions didn't kill Iruka like Takeshi planned, the resulting fires would have. He would have suffocated slowly as the fires stole the oxygen from the very air around him, his body slowing until those flames caught up to him.
He had nothing left of his husband to bury, not because Iruka had somehow escaped, but because he had the misfortune of being too close to one of those bombs as it went off, destroying everything in its path except for a strip of silver that melted from the heat of the fires. Flames that hot would have turned whatever bone was left to ash. It was just dumb luck Takeshi's body hadn't been exposed to that kind of heat as well.
As if just to torture himself further, he tried to activate the seal he had placed on Iruka what seemed like a lifetime ago. He had always enjoyed activating it, even when Iruka was unaware, just to feel the emotions and sensations that always ran through his vibrant, loving partner. No matter how far away he was from that beautiful man, he could feel exactly what his husband felt in those moments. Even when dreaming, he could get a glimpse of the peaceful, happy stories Iruka's mind wove as he felt the heat of a summer sun on his skin or a breeze blow through his hair. But he did not feel the usual love and infectious joy he always had in the past. He did not feel that strong, powerful heartbeat as though it was his own or the warmth of his lover's skin, which was always a degree higher than his. He felt no
pleasure, no pain. Instead, all he felt was a cold nothingness wash over him, as though he was thrown into an icy river that washed away every last memory of warmth he had. With a strangled cry, he broke the connection, destroying what little remained of a seal he had put his very soul into.
Iruka was truly gone.
Kakashi didn't register his legs falling out from underneath him until his knees hit the soft, ash-covered ground. His actions sent up a dust cloud around him, momentarily obscuring his view of the horrors around him. It did nothing to erase the image that would be forever burned into his mind. Weakly, he fell forwards until his hands dug into the several inches of ash below him. Even as he sat back on his knees, bringing fistfuls of the ash to his face, Kakashi could not find any more tears to cry. He couldn't feel anything other than the soft dust in his hands – dust that, somewhere, contained whatever was left of the man he loved. And, with every gentle breeze, he lost more and more of what remained of the one man who had been stupid enough to fall in love with him.
"You should get your head looked at," Kakashi stated, the flat, emotionless voice unrecognizable as his own. He could sense Gai jerked back at his statement. He may be weakened and distraught, but some part of him had noticed the streaks of blood down the back of his friend's neck at the hospital. Considering Gai was still conscious, it was probably nothing more than a cut that required a few stitches. Kakashi couldn't even muster up any guilt for smashing his friend's head against the floor so hard, he had split his scalp. He felt nothing, just a desire to be alone. He refused to even let himself think of his reasoning why he needed his best friend to leave – Gai would read his intentions on his face. After all their years together, Gai would know in an instant and would be there every moment to make sure Kakashi didn't do something stupid.
He could never explain in a way that Gai would understand that his actions weren't stupid. Finally, for the first time in so many years, he was thinking clearly. This was not selfishness. This was not a transient depression over losing his husband. He was protecting his remaining child from himself and the destruction that followed him wherever he went. He was going to make sure Sakumo never had to pay for his father's sins again.
Kakashi tipped his hand and watched as the ash filtered between his fingers, dancing away with a gentle breeze. All the times he tried killing himself after being tortured by Takeshi, he had felt a strange rush as he considered ending it all. He had felt a wave of joy to know he would no longer be in pain. But every single time, even before the blade cut through his skin, Gai was there, wrenching the weapon away. Gai was there to force him to throw up whatever cocktail of pills he had taken. Gai was always there for him and afterwards, Kakashi had been grateful his friend had saved him. But now? Now all he wanted was the choice to be his own. Now, he felt nothing other than exhaustion at the thought of death.
Saki would be better off. He knew Sasuke and Naruto would adopt the little toddler as their own, protecting him far better than his biological father had thus far. The two young men would raise the boy, telling him all the good stories about his true parents. They would paint a wonderful picture of a compassionate academy teacher who fell in love with one of the most decorated shinobi to have ever lived. They would gloss over the months where Kakashi refused to believe Saki was his son. They would neglect to mention that Saki was supposed to have a little brother and sister. They would invent a story of how Iruka and Kakashi died in battle, protecting their beloved child. Not until Saki was old enough to understand and, perhaps even forgive his father, would they tell him the truth. It would not be until Saki was an adult that he would truly know what Kakashi had been like.
At least Saki would never be the one to walk into an eerily quiet home, knowing something was wrong. He would never have to drop to his knees and shake his father's cold body, begging him to wake up even as blood coated his fingers and stained the floor beneath him.
Saki could grow up with a family, not a shell of a parent like Kakashi had. No one would come after the last Hatake; his father would be gone, so what revenge could they possibly have by harming his son? Even if they did, Naruto and Sasuke would always be there, far better equipped to protect Saki than Kakashi had already proven to be.
Perhaps the greatest relief was that his young son would never even remember him.
Kakashi smiled sadly at that thought. Saki was not even two – what child had memories from such an early age? His son would only know him as a story his uncles told him. He would only know him by the photographs Iruka had subtly collected and placed into an album as their relationship developed over their shared love for their son. He would only know of the great Umino Kakashi, the Copy Cat Ninja – the man who had performed such great feats only to die in his prime.
Kakashi was not an idiot. He would not leave his son to the gossip he had once lived with. He would not put any shame on the boy who had only been unfortunate enough to be Kakashi's son. It would look like an accident – not even Gai would know the truth. People would pass it up to a complication of his injuries. Perhaps, in time, those who knew him best would wonder, but they would never dare to state their thoughts aloud. They would not dishonor his memory.
It was for the best. Knowing that, Kakashi somehow found the strength to stand. As he turned to look at the sea of ash, his eyes were strangely dry, even though his heart continued to shatter at the sight before him. He couldn't let his emotions show or else Gai would know. His damned perceptive best friend was the only person other than Iruka who could read him, who could see that his eyes were vacant, as though his spirit was already gone.
"Take me back," he said softly, not wanting to arouse Gai's suspicion. All it would take was one slip and the Green Beast would never give him a moment's peace. Gai would become his shadow, his jailer, if for no other reason than to remind Kakashi that Saki needed a father. But what kind of parent was he? He killed his husband and two of his children. Better he get Saki as far from him as possible before his last child was destroyed by him too.
He barely felt his best friend's hand touch his shoulder before he found himself back in his hospital room. Kakashi did not even register the sounds of the world around him other than hearing the gentle padding of Gai's sandals as the Green Beast moved to leave the room.
"I'm not an idiot…I won't stop you this time," Gai said as he stood in the doorway, turning his head to look at Kakashi with saddened eyes that held a tired look that no one their age should ever be able to muster. Then again, how many times had he saved his best friend's life over the years? How many times had he been the one to staunch the blood flowing from limp arms those first few months? How many nights had he remained unable to sleep, worried the broken shell of a boy in his care would finally find a way out? How many times would it take before even the Green Beast was tired of saving him? Even Gai had his limits. As he walked through the door, not once looking back, Gai said something that would forever haunt the jounin he left alone in that quiet, sterile room. "Your daughter…she has Iruka's eyes…and his temper."
Kakashi just sat there, dumbly staring at his hands as Gai's words echoed in his head. But he must have misheard. He had felt those beautiful flickers of chakra go out. He had lived through those agonizing moments that made up a small eternity as he waited for even the smallest movement, but nothing ever came.
He had lost two of his children. A part of him had died with them in that forest. He had seen Iruka's tears. His husband had known the horrible truth. Then why would Gai say such a thing? Why would he torment Kakashi further?
It was then he heard it, a quiet, weak mewl. How many times had he heard Saki make that same sound as he started to wake up, preparing to make his hunger known? How many times had he reveled in the sound of his son's cries, if only because every cry reminded him that he had a family? That he had done the impossible and had a son who was his entire world? Even exhausted, he would jump at the sound of his son's cries, too grateful for the miracle that Saki was to ever be annoyed by being woken up at all hours of the night.
That soft cry was his undoing.
Kakashi did not feel the tears that now trailed down his cheeks, nor did he care. All that mattered was that, perhaps just a room away, was a child with Iruka's eyes. Only a few feet away lay a child Iruka had given his life to save – and Kakashi was terrified. He couldn't go to her as his heart was demanding him to. He couldn't bear to see those doe eyes stare back at him. He couldn't discover if she had Iruka's chestnut locks or his dark complexion.
One look at her and he knew his resolve would crumble. One glimpse at her and he wouldn't be able to go through with his plan. He knew all it would take would be one glance at her or Saki and he would lose his nerve. He would selfishly want to stay with them. And that was why he knew he had to do something soon before his daughter's soft cries tore at him even more.
A quick jolt of chakra, molded to have a deadly, sharpened edge, would leave no external marks. If he hit the right artery, he would bleed out in seconds. He was not attached to any monitors – no one would know until it was too late. Gai wouldn't be there to stop him this time. This was for the best. His children could grow up without his destructive presence. They would have a chance for a future. But even as he brought his hand to touch his bandaged abdomen, locating his target, his fingers trembled. Was this the same hesitancy his father felt as he contemplated his suicide all those years ago? Did his father have the same unease? The same misgivings, knowing this was one decision that could not be unmade? Hatake Sakumo had done it for honor and to save his son from a life of ridicule. Kakashi was doing it to protect his children from himself. A sad smile touched his lips as he thought that he and his father were not all that unlike after all.
His determination flickered as he pressed against his sore middle, recalling all the times Iruka had touched his growing belly in awe. It didn't matter that Iruka had gone through all of it once all on his own; he was still amazed every time he saw his husband, understanding how much Kakashi sacrificed to give their children life. Tears still would come to those chocolate eyes with every tiny kick against his fingers. He would laugh at Kakashi's valiant attempts to remain the aloof, mysterious jounin even as he found himself crying for no reason, turning green from Gai's cologne, or blowing up at Naruto simply because he craved ice cream.
It did not even take the sight of his children for his hand to fall limply to his side. Just the thought of Iruka drew a ragged sob from him as he knew he couldn't do it. He couldn't throw Iruka's precious gift away. Perhaps it was cowardice. Perhaps it was the knowledge his husband would murder him for even thinking of leaving their children orphans. No matter what it was, Kakashi could not fashion the chakra blade that could so easily end it all. Even though it would take little more than a thought, he could not end his life any more than he could harm a hair on his own child's head.
His shoulders shook with silent sobs as he dropped his head to his chest. How could he, even for a moment, think of killing himself? Iruka would have hated that the thought had crossed his mind, much less knowing Kakashi had rationalized his actions. He would be fuming, that damn blood vessel in his temple throbbing as he worked himself up into a frenzy, screeching at Kakashi like a harpy. A strangled laugh erupted from his raw throat. Of all the things he would miss, he never imagined Iruka's temper would be one of them. But he would give anything to have his husband's screeching tear at his ears. He would do anything for just one more chance to poke and prod his lover until Iruka was all but breathing fire if for no other reason than he found his husband beautiful when he was angry.
"Daddy?"
Kakashi's shattered heart broke all over again as he turned to see his son tottering into the room on unsteady legs. As he expected, Sasuke and Naruto were only a few steps behind Saki, prepared to use their shinobi reflexes to catch the wobbly boy if he started to fall. Whereas once he might have laughed at their over-protectiveness, now all he wanted to do was hide Saki from the rest of the world, away from anyone and anything that could harm his child.
Obviously giving up on walking, the little brunet transported himself to his father. Kakashi's arms instinctively went up to cradle the toddler even before he felt those tiny arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life. Saki may be young, but even he could understand his father was upset. He could feel his father's chest shake as sobs wracked his once powerful frame.
"Papa?" The toddler looked around, searching for his other father. A frown came to his face as he realized he wasn't in the room. "Where Papa?"
Kakashi broke at his son's innocent question. Even as tears trekked down his cheeks, he looked to Sasuke and Naruto for help, but they looked just as lost as him. How could he tell a child not even yet two years old that he had lost one of his parents? How could he make Saki understand that he would never see his Papa again? How many years would it take before his son understood the finality of death? How long until Saki would stop asking where his other father was? How many times would his questions break Kakashi's heart all over again?
"H-He's gone, Saki," he whispered into his son's chestnut hair, wishing that admission did not hurt as much as it did. But just those few words tore at him, shredding him to pieces that he had no hope of putting together again. Even worse was the confident, clever look in his son's sapphire eyes as he brought his tiny fingers to his chest. He was already halfway through the seals of a transportation jutsu before Kakashi gently grasped his hands. Kakashi could only shake his head as his eyes filled with new tears. "W-We can't…we can't go where Papa is," he said quietly, his voice cracking with emotion. What he wouldn't give to have Saki's hopefulness, his innocence! If only things were that simple.
"It's all my fault." Kakashi looked up from his son's frowning face to look to the blonde who had uttered such despondent words. He barely recognized the man before him as the same one he had once trained, the one who had become a friend over the years, the one who was a bright, spirited youth who never let anything get him down. In his place stood a lifeless statue aged far beyond his years, as though he had aged a decade. Kakashi had the feeling this was the person who had found his husband's destroyed ring among the ash that was his grave. How long had Naruto raked through his brother's cremated remains to find the tiny bit of silver in a sea of grey?
Kakashi desperately wanted to lash out, to blame someone else for the death of his husband. He wanted someone to share in the responsibility of ending such a vibrant life. In a different time, in a different life – one where he did not know Iruka – he might have done just that. He would have been able to be the heartless warrior so many people believed him to be. Instead, he found himself staring at the one person he could never blame, the young man who now grieved for the brother he had sworn to protect. He stared at the boy Iruka had raised single-handedly and wished there was something he could do or say to erase that self-loathing from his icy blue eyes.
Iruka would have hated to see Naruto like this. He always wanted his brother smiling, bubbly, and otherwise the creature that had once been the bane of Kakashi's existence. He wanted his little brother to be carefree; he wanted Naruto to have the life his and Kakashi's generation had been denied growing up in a war-ravaged village.
The only thing he could do was set Saki down on his hospital bed before he pulled his ex-student, his future Hokage – his family – into his arms and holding the young man as the first sobs began to wrack his frame. Tears quickly soaked through Kakashi's thin hospital shirt, but he did not acknowledge the wetness other than holding the blonde closer.
"Don't you dare blame yourself," he said, his voice a mere whisper against Naruto's ear. "This is my fault," he admitted quietly as he bowed his head, resting his forehead against the blonde's shaking shoulder that suddenly froze at his words. "Our attacker…was after me, not Iruka…" Kakashi hesitated to tell Naruto and Sasuke the full story behind Takeshi and his hatred for Kakashi, but they deserved at least that much. They should know why they lost a brother. Yet, the words caught in his throat, threatening to choke him as much as the fear wrapped like fingers around his neck. Unconsciously, Kakashi found himself stepping back and rubbing at the scars around his neck that had begun to burn at the memory of what had created them.
Slowly, the words began to pour out until they were like a waterfall, careening at a frightening speed towards an inescapable end. By the time Kakashi fell silent, he found himself perched on the edge of his bed, his slumbering son oblivious to the horrors his father had just unleashed. Naruto and Sasuke, on the other hand, were not as lucky. From their pale, drawn features, the two jounin had heard him perfectly fine and understood every terrible word. The claws of fear around his neck tightened as he watched the two for the pity he was certain they would now show him, but he was relieved when their features contorted into anger, hatred, respect – but never once pity.
"Takeshi must have escaped the ANBU squad sent to rescue me…Gai thought they killed them all…" Kakashi added, out of breath as though he had run miles, but he knew it was his terrible past that was sucking the breath right out of him. A glance to Sasuke and his abnormally pale, tight-lipped frown, Kakashi knew that the last Uchiha understood in a way only another Sharingan wielder could.
"They kept your eye uncovered," Sasuke stated more than questioned as he winced at the thought of being tortured while involuntarily copying every moment so that every word, every ounce of pain, could be recalled as though it had just happened moments before. What was a month of torture to others would have been a lifetime of hell to someone who could not inactivate their Sharingan. His respect for Kakashi grew infinitely in that moment as he wondered how someone could survive that and still be sane. How could a person live through that kind of pain and still be able to smile, laugh – love? Sasuke knew Iruka had a great deal to do with the well-adjusted, quiet man who sat before him, willing to tell them his greatest secret if only to make them understand why they had lost a brother, why Iruka had gladly given his life to kill that monster instead of racing back towards the village as soon as he had transported Kakashi to safety.
"Iruka…I should have stayed away…" Kakashi whispered to himself as he lowered his head into his hands, not for the first time wishing he had kept to his original plan and watched Saki and Iruka from a distance. If he had never gotten involved, if he had never let himself fall in love, Iruka would still be alive to raise their son. He may have never known what it meant to love and be loved in return, but he would give up every wonderful moment with Iruka just to know the brunet was alive. Even before the first tear begun to slide down his cheek, Kakashi found himself hoisted off the bed by the front of his shirt.
Kakashi did not have the energy to even glare at the blonde who was dangling him in the air as though he weighed little more than a feather. Instead, he looked at the furious jounin with saddened eyes, wishing he had remembered Naruto's inhuman hearing.
"Don't you dare…" the blonde all but snarled. Then, as suddenly as it came on, the anger was gone, replaced by watery blue eyes that Kakashi knew all too well. "You…you made these last couple years the best of his life. D-Don't you dare wish otherwise…"
"And if I kept my distance, he would still be alive," Kakashi blurted out as he wrenched his shirt out of Naruto's grasp and fell to the floor. Though he landed on his feet, pain still exploded through his still healing abdomen and it was all he could do to not pass out on the floor from the sheer agony.
"And he would be alone or miserable for the rest of his life," Naruto snapped, angry tears coming down his scarred cheeks. "You're an idiot if you think Iruka would have given up one day with you for a lifetime of being all by himself. You would have done the same thing if you were in his place."
The worst thing was that he knew Naruto was right. Had he been the one protecting his pregnant spouse, he would have done exactly what Iruka had: get his family to safety, and then destroy the person stupid enough to threaten their lives. And, if he was killed in battle, he would never want Iruka wondering if somehow, if things had been different, he could have been saved. He would have wanted his husband to live on, to remember the good times. He would have wanted Iruka to find happiness again. Saying those words as part of his wedding vows was damned easier than even contemplating following through on them. He never thought he would be the one left behind. He never considered the possibility he would outlive Iruka. He had never imagined being a widower…a single father. He had never calculated this as a possibility and was at a complete loss for what to do.
Kakashi found himself sitting back down on the bed, his legs too weak to hold up his weight, as he looked to his sleeping child. He now had not one, but now two small children to take care of by himself. Iruka was the better parent; Kakashi was not too proud to admit that. His husband had been the one to know exactly how to take care of Saki, know exactly what to pack when they went out, what to say or do to make their son stop crying…Kakashi one again felt like a glorified babysitter. At least he now knew how to change and feed a baby compared to all those months ago when he was first unleashed on his tiny son. But this time there would be no Iruka to correct his mistakes, no one to save him when he was out of his element.
Kakashi gingerly touched his son's hair, a small smile tugging at his lips as he remembered how much Iruka loved those soft curls even as Saki made his slowly lengthening hair an absolute mess most days. His husband didn't have the heart to give Saki his first haircut. Iruka couldn't wait for the day when those locks would be long enough to pull back like his father's own ponytail and out of the way of his forever sticky fingers.
"I don't know what to do," he admitted softly to the two young fathers who were still learning by trial and error with their own daughter. It took little more than a glance to see the little girl curled up in her father's arms as Sasuke watched her sleep.
"First, I'd suggest introducing yourself to your children, then telling us their names," Naruto said, his joking tone forced and almost painful to listen to when one was so accustomed to his normally happy nature. Kakashi would have winced at his attempts to lighten the mood, but he was stuck on the blonde's words. The use of the plural had not been lost on him. But…Gai had only mentioned Sonoe…
Kakashi all but flew from the bed as he wondered if he had only assumed the worst when Gai mentioned his daughter but not his second son. Had he been transported here in time for Tsunade to save both of them? For a moment, his sorrow lessened at the thought. Had he been wrong? Had Iruka saved their children's lives? Then he heard it again, a baby's soft cry. He followed the sound, knowing Naruto or Sasuke would stay to watch Saki. His heart thrummed in his chest as he wondered if it was Sonoe or Naoaki who was crying. From what Gai said about Sonoe's temperament, he could only guess it was his daughter making such a fuss.
Iruka would have loved to know his daughter already was a little monster who, judging from the coos and shushes he heard as he entered the next room over, already had a hospital staff wrapped around her tiny little finger. He would have been blubbering to hear she had his eyes. Did he even know that he had saved all three of them by acting so quickly and selflessly? Kakashi hoped so. He fervently prayed that Iruka died knowing he had three children who would carry on his family name.
Kakashi slipped unnoticed into the room that was impossibly noisy for a baby's nursery. The rumbles and bleeps of machinery almost drowned out the now whimpering cries. Following that soft little noise that tugged at his heart, he found the Hokage with a bundle of blankets in her arms. He might have been shocked by her wrinkled, exhausted appearance, for once looking her true age, but he was too focused on the bundle that had countless wires and tubes emanating from it.
And, for the first time since hearing his daughter had lived, Kakashi felt unholy terror wash over him. What if he came to hate the children that, indirectly, had cost him the life of his husband? What if, in time, he came to resent those eyes – apparently so like Iruka's – that he could not even stand the sight of his own daughter? Was Naoaki the same? Would he just remind Kakashi of the husband he had lost, a constant reminder of his shortcomings? Forever breaking his heart all over again until he came to hate his own offspring? Kakashi fell to his knees before his leader, unable to speak as he listened to the soft, sleepy mewls coming from the white pile of blankets.
"About time you came in." Kakashi's head snapped up from the bundle to look at the elderly woman who had spoken. Had he not known exactly who she was, he would have never recognized those scratchy words as the sarcastic tone of his leader. "What's her name?" the wizened old woman asked as she shifted the blankets in her arm. Kakashi looked down at the bundle with a mixture of longing to finally see his daughter and horror of how he might respond to her.
"S-Sonoe…" he whispered, his voice cracking with indescribable emotion, as he stared at the blankets as the cries suddenly quieted, as though his daughter recognized his voice. Then again, he did speak to them quite often whenever he was certain no one was around. He told them stories that seemed to quiet Naoaki's incessant kicking for a little while. He would tell them about the princesses he rescued, the monsters he had battled, feeling for their energetic little flickers of chakra, telling him they could hear him perfectly fine and enjoyed the sound of his voice. Not even Iruka knew just how frequently he would talk to them; he was too embarrassed to admit it.
"And your son?" Kakashi looked up from the white blankets, his watery gaze searching for another tiny bundle, but saw none. Where was his son? It was then he saw the glass panel separating the nursery from another room. Kakashi had no recollection of standing up or walking across the room, but he suddenly found himself at the window, his pale fingers touching the cool glass as he watched the scene before him in a mixture of awe and gratitude.
He could feel the chakra emanating from the room's occupants. He knew he, Naruto, and several others may be on a different level when it came to amount and control of chakra, but even Kakashi had to take a step back at the sheer force that reverberated off the glass before being pulled in by the pink-haired woman in the center of the room. His mismatched eyes flickered over the five shinobi in the room. He was floored to see his friends there, their bodies trembling in exhaustion and chakra depletion, but still pouring their own energy out for Sakura to wield. Kakashi watched in silence as a kunoichi he had once stupidly thought would never amount to anything directed that awesome energy into her hands. With her back slightly turned towards him, Kakashi could not see exactly what she held. But he knew, in his heart, that she was cradling his son. What worried him was not that she was pouring unfathomable amounts of energy into his newborn child, but that he could not hear his son's cries. Even now, he could hear Sonoe's soft mewls, as though she was demanding he come back to her. But from Naoaki, he heard nothing. Not a whimper, not a gasp for air. Nothing.
Kakashi wished he could claim his son's cries were too soft to be heard through the glass, but he could hear the soft hiss and crackle of the chakra filling the air of the small, dimly lit room. He could hear the clicks and whirs of machinery. He could hear ragged gasps for air as Sakura worked herself to exhaustion. With his near inhuman hearing, he would have been able to hear his son's cry, no matter how quiet it was. He would have heard any noise his son made he was so focused on the scene before him. But Naoaki did not make a sound.
Kakashi only had to turn to Tsunade, anguish written across his face, for her to explain. "Seven and a half months is very young…rarely do babies that premature survive…" the Hokage whispered as she bowed her head. "Your daughter…Sonoe, she was lucky. Her lungs were almost fully developed…your son wasn't…" She trailed off as if searching for the right words. With a deep breath, she continued, "he is much smaller. Sakura has been pouring energy into him for over a day, trying to get his lungs to mature. For now, a machine is breathing for him…"
Her words were like spears to his heart. All the times he thought about seeing the twins for the first time, it was never like this. It was never watching his child fight for life through a window. It was supposed to be a moment of joy, not this fear. "Will he live?" Kakashi whispered hoarsely as he went back to staring through the window. Gai, Kurenai, Anko, Ibiki – they were all there, pulling at every last reserve of their own chakra to save his son's life. Kakashi could not help but stare at his best friend. Judging from the blood still oozing slowly down his neck, Gai refused to have his head looked at before jumping in to help save Naoaki. From the amounts of chakra coming from each jounin, Kakashi could tell Gai was the last to join in, but the Green Beast was also the only one in the room with grey ash covering him. The others had stayed behind to save Naoaki while Gai and Naruto raced to find Iruka.
"It is hard to say. His lungs are one of many problems," Tsunade replied softly as Kakashi turned back to her. He watched as she slowly stood up, careful of the web of wires and tubes connecting his daughter to countless machines. Kakashi could not bear to think of what their purpose was. Sonoe was the healthier of the two – and yet her tiny body needed all this to survive.
"Sit," Tsunade demanded as she looked pointedly at the seat she had just stood up from. Too tired to argue, Kakashi found himself for once following orders without a snide remark or outright refusal. Even as he felt the hard plastic against his back, his arms were filled with the bundle of blankets. Instead of instantly searching for his daughter's tiny face in the sea of material, he closed his eyes at the onslaught of emotion. No child could weigh so little. He would have sworn that he was just holding a pile of blankets, but then he felt the tiniest of movements in his arms, followed by a squeak. Unable to help it, he opened his watery eyes only to discover Gai was right.
She had Iruka's eyes.
Kakashi's heart gave a painful thump as he stared at those big brown eyes, waiting for the pain, the hatred he was terrified would come. But all he could feel was instant love for the tiny miniature of Iruka. She did not just have his chocolate eyes, but his tanned skin, his nose…even the fuzz peeking out from underneath a pink hat was the same shade as Iruka's. She was beautiful. Kakashi brought a trembling finger up to touch her pink cheek. Even as he felt the softness of her skin, a tiny hand emerged from the blankets and slowly grabbed his finger. As he looked down at the perfect digits that were so small, they could not fully wrap around his index finger, he knew his heart was lost.
"H-Hi…" he whispered, his voice cracking even as the first tear slid down his cheek. Iruka would have been bawling like a baby to see his daughter, to discover that she looked just like him. He would have been over the moon to feel that strong grip against his finger. He would have laughed at her pouting little mouth as she all but glowered at Kakashi in an expression that was identical to her late father's.
Kakashi had no words to describe the emotions running through him as he touched her perfect chin, her impossibly small ears. Joy was nowhere near strong enough. There was gratitude to the woman who had given all her chakra to save his daughter's life. Sorrow that Iruka was not here to share in this moment was there as well, dampening what should have been one of the happiest days of his life.
"I'm sorry about Iruka…" Tsunade said softly as she gingerly sat down in the chair next to Kakashi, her aged joints creaking and popping in such a way, it caught the jounin's attention. He looked up from his daughter to eye the woman who he owed so much to. "When you appeared…I assumed Iruka would be right behind you. By the time…the twins were stable enough for me to step away…I…I found out he hadn't come back…by then, hours had already gone by…
"I am so sorry…He didn't deserve this…neither of you did."
Kakashi studied her, for the first time noticing the puffiness of her own eyes. Though clouded with age, those eyes were still those of his leader – a woman he had never seen shed a single tear before. "What happened out there, Kakashi? Naruto said the seals would protect the two of you…"
"He must have followed us and found a weak spot…" Kakashi whispered, not for the first time wondering how the hell Takeshi had gotten so close. "I felt…I thought we were being watched. I went out that night…I needed to be alone." Kakashi closed his eyes, fighting back tears as he wished he had told Iruka to stay in the house where he would have been safe. Or perhaps if he had asked his husband to walk at his side things would have been different. "Iruka followed a little ways behind…too far back…he couldn't reach me before Takeshi attacked…"
"You know who attacked you?" The surprise in Tsunade's voice was enough to make the jounin crack an eye and look over at her. He would have wondered why Gai had said nothing, but he had the feeling his best friend had not spared a moment for anyone in his mission to help save Naoaki.
Naoaki…Kakashi dare not think about his son. He could do nothing to help his child; his chakra was beyond depleted. Physically, he was in no condition to even try. If he did not have his daughter in his arms, he would still be at that window as his heart broke all over again, watching his son fight for life. He could not handle that pain, coward that he was.
"I-I knew him in ways I'd rather not remember," Kakashi answered the Hokage's question. He had the feeling, from her sudden intake of breath, she had read through his files at some point. At a different time, he might have been amused to discover that his terrible, dark secret was not so much of a secret after all. Kakashi may never be able to forget the horrors of his captivity, but no longer were they the open wound they had once been. Now, he could speak of that chapter of his life without fearing reliving it whenever he closed his eyes. It was all thanks to Iruka.
"Seeing…seeing him again…I-I fumbled. I didn't move fast enough. He ran me through with my old katana…" As he recalled the blade, a searing pain shot through his middle, a reminder of the near fatal path the blade had taken through him. How had the twins both survived? How could they both be alive now when Kakashi had sensed their chakras were gone? They had stopped moving. "I was bleeding out…Iruka…he tried to heal me…but…the twins…they were gone." Kakashi looked over at Tsunade, his question unspoken, but she nodded her head in understanding.
"Restarting one heart is easy enough…three takes a bit out of even me," Tsunade commented as she glanced down at her hands, almost unrecognizable from age as those of one of the most powerful women to have ever lived. Three. Kakashi brought his free hand up to his own chest, now understanding where all of his leader's energy had gone.
"When we delivered the twins…no pulse, no chakra…I wasn't…I couldn't admit it…not without trying. Once they had a heartbeat, I turn around…and you, you idiot…you go and die on me!" Kakashi could not place the emotion in her voice, but he could see her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "Don't you dare scare me like that again!" If it was not for the tears beginning to leak from her eyes, Kakashi might have taken her snarl as anger. Instead, he felt the smallest of smiles tug at his lips.
"I don't plan to," he whispered as he turned his gaze back to his daughter and watched as her eyelids, too heavy to keep open, dropped over tired brown eyes. As he watched his daughter sleep in the crook of his arm, Kakashi knew he couldn't go back to his old life. He was no longer that same person. The few missions he had been on since Saki was born, he was never in real danger. Even if the impossible had happened to him, Iruka was always there to raise their son. Now? Now, he was all his children had. Before being a shinobi, he was a father. For the first time since he woke up, he did not feel completely lost. He finally was certain of something. "I quit," he said softly as he brushed his daughter's cheek. He would not let his children become orphans. He would rather give up his hitai-ate.
"I refuse your resignation," Tsunade quickly retorted the instant his statement hit her ears. Her words drew Kakashi's gaze to her saddened features. "And before you try it, you're too young to retire. You are taking an extended leave, however long you need. When you are ready, I'm sure I have some assignments around the village that could use a genius like you…"
"T-Thank you." Kakashi knew he was never on the best terms with Tsunade, so her offer surprised him. He knew he would go stir crazy sitting around the village for the rest of his life, but for his children, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. To have Tsunade understand his reasoning, and be willing to find missions he would take – where he would be in little danger and close to home – was amazing. For all the times he ratted out her drunken state to Shizune or otherwise made her life a living hell, he was sure he was the last person she would show sympathy towards.
"Don't act so surprised. When you're not being a pain in my ass, you're actually good to have around," Tsunade admitted begrudgingly. She would never admit it to the man, but he was close to tying with Naruto for her favorite jounin. Yes, Kakashi drove her to drink most days, but when he wanted to, he was an unrivaled genius with a depth of insight few shinobi possessed.
She had begun seeing more of the respectable, professional side of the Copy Cat Ninja once he had become a father. Since Saki's birth, Kakashi was almost tolerable. Whether it was parenthood or Iruka that changed the jounin, she couldn't hazard to guess. All she could do was hope that the man Kakashi had been becoming was not completely destroyed by the death of his husband. As she watched the tall, quiet man hold his newborn daughter, she knew that he would survive. She just did not know what kind of life that was going to be.
XXX
"Go home, Kakashi." Said jounin was roused at the sound of his name. He cracked open a dry, tired eye to glare at the man stupid enough to wake him. If not for the fact it was Gai standing in front of him, he would have probably thrown them out of the nursery. Even though it was Gai who had slipped into the room, it still rubbed Kakashi the wrong way that someone was able to get in here without waking him up. As it was, he simply huffed and closed his natural eye before he had to listen to his best friend's now all-too-familiar tirade.
"You have to go home sometime," Gai pointed out softly as he knelt down before the half-awake man. Whereas Sasuke, Naruto, Saki and Keiko went home at the end of visiting hours and came back the very next morning, Kakashi only growled at the poor medics bold enough to ask him to leave. Even Tsunade could not get him to go home and rest. It did not matter that Gai completely understood why, for the past week, his best friend refused to leave the hospital.
Gai was never one for a stern hand, but his pleading hadn't worked yet. As he knelt there, staring at the shell of his best friend, he knew he had to do something. He was always pale, but not like this. The Copy Cat Ninja was not meant to be this sallow, sickly being that only spoke when completely necessary. Kakashi barely ate. What sleep he did get was only minutes a day and fitful at that. Though he had seen Kakashi at his worst, Gai had to admit that this was far more heartbreaking than the months after he saved Kakashi from that dungeon.
"The memorial is in a few hours." Even those words could not rouse his best friend. Gai knew how much Kakashi hated funerals. Of all the friends they lost, Kakashi never once made an appearance at any one of the memorial ceremonies. Gai knew it was not out of a lack of respect, but that Kakashi could not mourn in public. He could always sense his pale-haired companion was nearby, but never visible. He knew Kakashi well enough to know he would always be there, once everyone else was gone, to pay his respects. He would stand there, rain or shine, and talk to their fallen friend for hours. But would this be the one time Kakashi stood there for others to see? Would this be the only occasion the rest of the world saw that the Copy Cat Ninja had a fragile heart?
"You'll feel better after a shower and a couple hours of sleep," Gai said softly. If there was one thing he could change, one moment in time he could alter, it would have been the day Kakashi received his Sharingan. He may have not been the awe-inspiring shinobi he was today, but memories would have faded in time. For Kakashi, that would have been a blessing. His month in captivity would have become fuzzy over the years. Battles he had fought would not keep him awake at night. Most importantly, he would not have to fear going home to an empty house, his mind torturing him with images of his past, perfectly and eternally etched into his mind. He would not have to hide himself away so that memories would not bombard him every time he turned around, recalling the husband he had lost.
Other people who did not know better thought Kakashi's Sharingan had been a miracle. It had given him back half his vision. It had granted him abilities no one other than the Uchiha clan had ever possessed. But, at the same time, it was a power he could never fully control. Whereas Sasuke could pick what moments he copied, Kakashi had no say. All he could do was cover his eye. And, in the past two years, even that small bit of self-preservation had become less and less common. For once in his life, Kakashi was happy to copy every moment he could. If only he had known those memories would now haunt him.
Even now, his best friend's unnatural eye stared back at him. Whether or not Kakashi realized it, that eye was filled with unshed tears. As the first droplets begun to slide down his pale cheek, Kakashi spoke for the first time in days, "I…I can't…"
"Yes, you can. Saki needs you too," Gai pointed out. His words caused a glimmer of emotion to flicker in those mismatched orbs. For once, it was not sorrow, but longing. How long had it been since he had spent quality time with his eldest son? "Go home. I will stay with the twins." Kakashi's gaze shifted from the Green Beast to the two tiny cribs in front of them. Sonoe was happily sleeping, oblivious to the world. Naoaki, on the other hand, may or may not be sleeping; Kakashi could not tell. His tiny chest rose and fell slowly, but that and the gentle beep of monitors were the only indication of life. He made no noise, no attempts to move. His face was almost completely covered, hiding his underdeveloped eyes from damage. Kakashi weakly smiled. He did not even know the color of his son's eyes.
All he knew was that his youngest child was tiny enough to fit in one of his hands, half the size of his twin sister. His son probably weighed less than some of his kunai – and was smaller than some too. It was no wonder he had at first been terrified of holding him. A twitch of his finger would be all it took. But, as Kakashi held his tiny child for the first time, he knew no harm would come to him. All it had taken was one soft whimper from his otherwise silent son. It may have been a weak, pitiful sound, but it was the first time Naoaki had cried. In that moment, Kakashi's heart was lost. And, with each passing day, Naoaki grew stronger. Though Tsunade had been doubtful at first, even she was now hopeful that he would survive. Despite all of his medical problems, which seemed to span every organ system, Naoaki was a little fighter. How could Kakashi leave him now?
He looked up from his son to see the understanding in his best friend's face. Gai was probably the only person left in his life who could fully comprehend what kind of hell was waiting for him at home. Gai was the only one left who knew him that well. And if Gai thought he could stand being home, perhaps his best friend was right. Maybe it was time he went home. He just needed to get through a funeral he never thought he would be attending. Afterwards, he would go back to the house Iruka had made into a home. After all, how much more could his shattered heart break?
XXX
Kakashi quietly listened to the beautiful speech his brother-in-law had prepared for the service. Somehow, Naruto did not stumble even as his tears trekked down his scarred cheeks. He inwardly applauded Naruto for being the one to volunteer for this, after nearly a week of denying the death of his brother. Somehow, the blonde had mustered up the strength to get up and stand in front of what seemed to be the entire village and pour his heart out and say a final goodbye to the man who had raised him. Kakashi was nowhere near that strong, which was why he stood, silent, and watched as his husband's name was carved into the memorial as a permanent reminder of the price Iruka had paid. It took everything he had not to break down in front of all these people. He could not imagine trying to stand before so many and make sense of losing his husband, his best friend.
Even after Naruto fell silent and people began to leave, offering their condolences, Kakashi's gaze never left the memorial stone. He did not register the countless people who walked by, much less their words, but his focus was torn from Iruka's name when a group of tiny children walked up to the stone. Kakashi felt an almost instant burning to his eyes as he recognized each and every child. After all the times he used to watch Iruka teach, it was no wonder he had unconsciously learned every student's name and personality. His eyes began to sting as he watched Iruka's students. Children who had probably never encountered death before were the ones who broke his heart most of all. Silently, with tears filling his eyes, he watched as they placed small toys and colorful handmade cards at the base of the memorial. Several students placed down handfuls of wild flowers – little more than weeds – but in that moment, they were more beautiful than the countless expensive bouquets that littered the memorial already.
Kakashi very nearly broke down as the children came to him, their faces stained with tears, their tiny noses running and their eyes puffy and painfully red. One by one, they bowed before him, offering condolences that were not eloquent or, in the cases of a few of the sobbing children, even comprehensible, but those apologies were the ones that touched him the most. As the last child came up to him, the tiniest child in the class, Kakashi did not know if he could take another child crying. The little girl, Tamoko, let out a whimper before she suddenly latched onto his leg. Kakashi nearly fell back in surprise – no child other than Saki had ever hugged him, much less clung to him as though he was the only thing holding her up. Somehow, he found the strength to keep himself from crying as he disentangled the girl from his leg to scoop her up in his arms. Immediately, her tiny arms went around his neck with vice-like strength. Her tears almost instantly soaked through the collar of his shirt.
Unable to take such sorrow from such a tiny, innocent child, Kakashi finally gave up trying to maintain the stoic façade the rest of the village always saw. Holding the little girl, he let the tears flow freely. Tears for Iruka whose life ended far too early, for his children who would never remember their father, for Naruto and Sasuke for the brother they lost, for these poor children who lost a beloved teacher. Most of all, he cried for the future he, his children and Iruka had torn from them. He had dreamed of raising his family with Iruka and growing old with his husband. But that was not meant to be. Kakashi was not sure if he would ever feel comfortable in his new role as a single parent, but he had no other choice than to adapt and learn how to be the best father he could possibly be for his three children.
XXX
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Kakashi barely registered the blonde's concerned words as he stared at the house he had so painstakingly restored so that his family had a real home. He always thought the Hatake compound would improve the longer they lived there as his childhood memories were replaced with new ones, filled with laughter and love. Now, all he saw was the dark, foreboding front of a house that, like so many years ago, was too quiet, too still. Bile stung the back of his throat as he briefly recalled that painful day when he found his father's body. Not even that day frightened him as much as this moment.
Looking down at his trembling hands, he sighed. Just for one night, he wanted - no, needed - to be alone. He wanted to be able to release some of the emotion he had bottled up the last week. He wanted to scream and swear, cursing his husband for leaving him. He wanted to cry over all the memories they would never make together. He needed time alone, so he could finally let go of that steely control he had always prided himself in. He could never do that with his family near him, worrying if he was going to be okay. He was not 'okay,' and Kakashi doubted he ever would be again. But only time would begin to heal the still open wounds that pained him every waking moment. Only with time would those wounds scar, leaving marks on his very soul.
"I will be fine. I...I need this." Kakashi admitted softly as he looked over to the two young fathers and the tiny children in their arms. His son slept, oblivious to the world around him. Kakashi could not imagine what his son thought of the funeral, of all the people crying. Saki had been strangely silent, his eyes filled not with tears, but confusion. Afterwards, he had asked where Iruka was. And, again, Kakashi had to tell the little genius that he was gone. It occurred several times a day that Kakashi had to remind the toddler of his father's passing. But Saki couldn't comprehend the finality of it all. After so many times of saying it, Kakashi had grown numb to those words. He could say his husband was gone without shedding a tear. He could go almost an entire day without breaking down crying. But the thought of going home alone and taking care of his tiny son while being haunted with memories of Iruka...not even he was that strong.
Saki would be fine for one night with his uncles. It was an unspoken agreement that Naruto and Sasuke would stay at their old place tonight. Iruka had always wondered why the two did not just sell the house and fully move into the Hatake compound, as they were living there anyway. Perhaps, somewhere in their subconsciousness, Naruto and Sasuke knew there would be times when they needed to stay somewhere else and give Iruka or Kakashi their space. Kakashi had imagined there would be fights and arguments, but nothing like this.
"If you need anything..." Naruto left the offer open. They all knew Kakashi would not ask them for help and, even if he did, there was nothing they could do to ease the pain. But the offer was sweet all the same. Kakashi gave him a weak smile, but shook his head. Unless Naruto figured out a jutsu that could turn back time, there was nothing the future Hokage could do to help him.
"We'll be back in the morning," Sasuke said softly, resting his hand on Kakashi's forearm and squeezing gently. Kakashi gave a quick nod, grateful for their understanding and compassion. He doubted he would sleep at all tonight, but at least he would have a few hours alone to try sorting out his new life. With a shaking hand, he opened the door and gave one look back to the only family he had left before stepping into hell.
Kakashi unconsciously closed the door behind himself, only registering the loud creak as the main door's hinges groaned and protested the movement. Though he could still feel Naruto and Sasuke on the other side of the ancient piece of wood, that small barrier was enough to put a chink in his icy armor, the only thing that had kept him standing this last week. Weakly, he fell back against the wood, not caring that his head connected with a painful crack or that, as he limply slid to the ground, he could feel the tears soaking his cheeks that were bare for all to see. No one at the funeral had given him lustful glances or gaped in awe like his friends had when he finally removed the mask for them. No, all anyone saw was a shell of the man he once was. He had not looked in a mirror in over a week, but from the pain in Naruto and Sasuke's eyes, he knew he had to look like hell.
Iruka would have been deliriously happy to have walked around the village with him with his face uncovered. If only he had ever worked up the nerve to do just that - just once. Just once, he could have bit his tongue and ignored the looks he received just to make his husband smile and blush that vibrant shade of red. And blush Iruka would, as there would undoubtedly be catcalls at this sight of Kakashi's face. The thought of his husband's blushing face, how his reddened cheeks made his scar stand out all the more, brought a new onslaught of tears that burned his already sore eyes.
Bringing his knees up to his chest, he bowed his head, his forehead resting on knees that, even after a week, were still healing from his battle with Takeshi. Battle. He could not even call his sad attempt of protecting his family that. The stinging of his scraped knees was nothing in comparison to the ache in his chest where his heart once was.
Iruka always knew just what to say to make him smile or laugh. The very thought of ever again feeling happy enough to laugh...it was an impossible idea. Kakashi rubbed his eyes, barely noticing the puffiness as he tore off his eye patch, soaked with tears, that had been protecting his fragile heart during the funeral. That was one of the few things he desperately wanted to forget. Somehow, he mustered the strength to look up from his lap. The sight before his watery gaze brought a new wave of tears. The courtyard was one of Iruka's favorite places. His husband would sit beneath those damn sakura trees for hours, reading a good book or watching as Saki tottered around on unsteady legs. Before the house was clean enough to be lived in, Iruka would spread a blanket out beneath the ancient trees and demand Kakashi sit down and eat lunch before going back to his renovations.
Iruka was the one who had painstakingly weeded and pruned in the fervent hope that there was still some life left in them. As the trees began to bud, perhaps for the first time in decades, Iruka had that silly smile on his face, proud of his accomplishment when Kakashi had been certain his efforts were futile.
As though his heart was not broken enough, his Sharingan swirled as the sight of his husband, in black silk robes, filled his vision. He had never seen someone look as beautiful as Iruka had on their wedding day. He had never seen anyone so deliriously happy either. Kakashi watched as one of countless copied scenes played out before him, as though he was a mere bystander at one of the greatest moments of his life.
Iruka had walked with such grace, but at the same time, his entire body hummed with uncertainty. His brunet had not been unsure about his feelings, but about their future. He was always worried Kakashi would be the one to fall during a mission gone wrong. He still harbored a flicker of disbelief that Kakashi had chosen him; out of everyone in the world, Kakashi had fallen in love with him. If only Kakashi had told him he had felt that same unease as he watched his soon-to-be husband walking towards him, amazed that such a perfect creature was choosing him. He could not believe that his magnificent, beautiful and loving partner had fallen for a scarred, broken being such as him. But, as cliche as it sounded, Iruka had filled those holes that a lifetime of pain had ripped through his soul. Iruka had completed him. Iruka made him a better person. Because of Iruka, he was not simply a warrior or a prodigy. He was a lover, a father, a husband...he was everything he never dared to imagine becoming.
Blinking quickly to clear his watery gaze, Kakashi sucked in a sharp breath of air as his Sharingan continued to torture him. Iruka's voice filled his ears, that sweet sound filled with such happiness and love that whatever tears he had left were ripped from him.
I take you, Hatake Kakashi, to be my husband.
Those were words Kakashi had never hoped to ever hear. He never thought he would marry. Why would he? He was little more than a whore. He would sleep with anyone who caught his fancy that night, many times never even bothering to learn their names. How many had he spent a night with, just to have some human contact? To feel some warmth? To feel alive?
My body, my heart and my soul are in your hands because I know you are the one who will protect these precious gifts.
Protect...that is what he had vowed to do that day. He had promised to protect Iruka. And he had failed him. He had been the cause of his husband's demise and no amount of denial from Naruto and the others would change that fact. Everyone said it was a terrible accident, but in his heart, he knew better. He as much a hand in Iruka's death as Takeshi had, if not more. Iruka was no great warrior, he was not bred for pain and death. He was an unrivaled teacher, a lover, a friend. He was not a murderer like Kakashi. He was not evil or bloodthirsty like his husband. Kakashi should have known Iruka's love was too good to be true - it was only a matter of time before he ended his husband's life prematurely, whether by his own hand in a reflex to protect himself or by his actions and deeds. Perhaps it would have been better if he had been the one to involuntarily be the one to stop his husband's heart. Then, people would rightly place the blame with him. They would not have cared that he had been acting in self-preservation with the speed and violence that had saved his life countless times before. So much so, his mind would have had no control over the sudden movement that ended such a vibrant life. Perhaps it would have been during one of his nightmares or when his husband snuck up on him. Or during a sparring match gone horribly wrong. There were countless possibilities where he would jump and unconsciously defend himself.
You have shown me a life outside of our violent world.
No, he had been the one to introduce Iruka to what kind of a world he came from. He had exposed his husband to true, irrational violence and hatred. He had taken Iruka from a world of peace and prosperity and exposed him to the darker side of their village, the one that allowed those fortunate few to live in the light.
I swear to stand by your side, to protect and defend you, as long as I have the strength in my hand to hold a blade. I will always be there for you, through good times and bad. I...I will love our ch-children with every...fi-fiber of my being and continue to...to fight to give them a better, more peaceful life than we had.
Kakashi winced at the love and joy in his husband's voice as he stammered. Once, those words had made his heart soar. Now...now they only caused him pain and self-hatred. Iruka should not have been the one to fight for their family. He should have never allowed himself to be so weak, so fragile. If he had never demanded Iruka teach him that cursed jutsu, he would still have his husband, not a ghost of the past to keep him company. But, if he had not learned the jutsu, he would not have the twins. He would never have heard Sonoe's soft mewls or watched as Naoaki fought for life with the strength of a thousand jounin.And, because of him, Iruka would never know them. He would never know he had a daughter who would grow into a beautiful brunette who was a mirror image of her father. He would never get to meet the tiny boy who had beaten the odds. He missed the opportunity to watch as Saki met his siblings for the first time. He would never know that his tiny genius had formed his first healing jutsu, giving what energy he had to help Naoaki breathe easier. Iruka would never see how gently Saki touched Sonoe's cheek, his smile almost infectious as he giggled at her soft coos.
I swear to you that I will return to you after every mission. When the day comes that...I cannot...return to you in body, know that I come home to you in s-spirit. And if I fall...I ask you to live the life I fought to give you and to find someone to love and comfort you as I n-no longer can. Know I will wa-watch over you for the rest of your days...until we can meet again.
Kakashi shut his eyes, not wanting to continue the memory that was so perfectly copied, it was as though it just happened. He could not watch as he, with all the love in his heart, had kissed his husband for the first time, not caring about their audience. All that had mattered at that time was the man who had stood before him.
Far from the first time in his life, he wished he had never accepted Obito's eye. A life as a civilian would have been preferable to the agony of listening as his Sharingan tormented him, changing scenes as his husband's laughter filtered into his ears.
Saki! Get back here!
Kakashi cracked open an eye at Iruka's bubbly voice and watched as his husband ran across his vision, chasing after a toddler who could crawl faster than most could run. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as his husband scooped their son up in his arms, planting a raspberry on his round belly and getting a squeal of laughter out of the baby. He could not break his gaze from his husband until Iruka walked back into the house with a nude Saki to finish his bath. Only then did he glance up to a second floor window, knowing that he would see a deliriously happy jounin watching the scene, his Sharingan unveiled as he copied his husband and son's antics.
If this was the torture he would receive in the courtyard, what hell awaited him inside?
Kakashi had no idea how long he sat there, watching as his husband lived out a happy life in front of him, from tending to the old sakura trees, to scrubbing the koi ponds, to the first time Kakashi convinced his innocent husband to make love underneath the cherry trees and the stars.
Feeling centuries older than his actual age, Kakashi moved to stand. His joints creaked and groaned as he tried to rub some feeling back into his cold, numb limbs. Even as he slowly began making his way towards the house, his Sharingan continued to break his spirit and his heart.
Glancing up from the ground at the sound of Iruka's laugh in front of him, Kakashi instinctively opened his arms as the brunet ran towards him. But Iruka's warm body never collided against him. His husband ran straight through him, as though Kakashi was not even there. No...as the ghost of his husband passed through him, he took any semblance of sanity Kakashi had left with him.
He may be cursed with watching and listening to his husband for the rest of his days. Yet that was nothing in comparison to the knowledge that, however real Iruka looked or sounded...Kakashi would never touch him. He would never feel substance beneath his fingertips. He would never be able to run his fingers through Iruka's hair. He would never touch that warm, tanned skin and feel how his husband's powerful muscles quivered beneath him.
Damn Obito and his gift. Other people would find peace after the passing of a loved one and, over time, their face would become fuzzy. Over the years, they would forget their voice, the exact tone of their laughter. They would one day find peace. Kakashi would never have that. He would never forget how his husband's voice deepened in desire or how his screams of aggravation brought his voice up an octave. He would never forget how Iruka's smile stretched the scar across his nose or how his husband would lick his lips in pure pleasure after eating ramen.
Kakashi took a deep breath as he touched the closed door that separated him from whatever horrors his Sharingan could create for him. Slowly, he slid the door open and stepped into the house. He did not know if he could call this his home anymore. Without Iruka...it was merely a giant, cold, quiet mansion. It was a place he could be alone with his memories of the only man he ever loved.
XXX
Kakashi did not remember how he got to the roof or where he had found the sake bottle. He did not even know how much he had already drank. Judging from the fuzziness in his head, he had already had enough alcohol that most others would be passed out by now. He had an impressive tolerance from all the years he had used alcohol and sex to feel something other than pain. Then again, he had not truly drank for quite some time. He no longer needed to stalk the bar for his next lay. He had a beautiful lover who warmed his bed every night without the aid of alcohol and bad decisions. Then, with the twins, he did not touch a drop of alcohol. The last week, he had barely eaten, much less drank anything more than the water Gai forced down his throat on occasion.
He was starting to have the sneaking suspicion he probably drank only from the bottle he was nursing, which was more than half full.
Looking up at the night sky, he wished he had known how much love hurt. Or, at least the loss of love. If he had known just how much losing Iruka would torture him, would he have made the same choices? Would he have tried finding out more about his mystery lover who, for reasons he did not understand at the time, made his heartbeat erratic whenever 'she' was near? Would he have spent all those months watching Iruka or secretly visiting Saki in the night? Would he have started spending more and more time at Iruka's apartment, finding the warmth and sincere happiness of his tiny home more addictive than any drug? Would he have trusted Iruka with those three simple words, I love you? Would he have trusted himself with the precious gift of Iruka's love? But could he have lived not knowing what it was like to have love? To have people who meant more to him than life itself? To have a connection with someone who truly knew him?
If there were any tears left to cry, he would have felt something. Instead, his eyes remained painfully dry as his throat ached from his screams. At the moment, with his head swimming, he only spared a moment of regret for the damage he had done throughout the place he had once called home. Furniture turned to mere splinters as he recalled the search for each and every piece with Iruka. Mirrors shattered as he passed by them, unable to face himself because of what he had inadvertently done by loving Iruka. Glancing down at his hands, he was not surprised by the red that stained his raw knuckles. If only he felt any pain as he watched the slow ooze from a deep gash. Seeing a glimmer of something at the edge of the bloody mess, he ripped out the reflective shard and threw it on the roof beneath him in disgust. He had not even felt the piece of glass in his hand, left behind from one of the many mirrors he had destroyed in his torturous trek through the empty house. What other injuries had he caused himself whose pain paled in comparison to his loss?
A frigid wind blew by, cutting through the thin layers that covered his already chilled body. Shivering slightly, he let out a shaky breath, surprised when he saw the puff of white in front of him. When had it gotten so cold? What little was left of his famed intelligence told him he should get inside. If he was feeling this cold with alcohol, he was probably much closer to hypothermia than he was willing to admit. He could not risk falling ill. He had three small children, two of which may not survive a simple cold if he passed it on to them.
Gingerly, he moved to stand. His abdomen protested the movement after hours of being still, but Kakashi ignored the sharp stabs. Those wounds were ones that would heal with time, leaving large scars that would eventually fade into the already marred background. In the years to come, who would know that the large horizontal mark that ran from hip to hip was one that had actually, if however briefly, taken his life from him? Who would remember that the Hokage had worked herself to the bone to bring him back? Who would put two and two together and realize that that large gash was the one the Hokage had widened in her rush to save his children after he was impaled on his own katana?
A hot jolt of pain shot through his abdomen and Kakashi unconsciously rubbed his low back where the katana's exit wound hid. A mere couple inches of stitched skin was all that remained. It looked so insignificant in comparison to the damage it had caused.
His joints as stiff as those of an eighty-year-old, Kakashi painfully stood up to his full height, immediately regretting the movement. His head swam as he stumbled backwards. He barely had the balance to catch himself as his right foot slipped off the roof's edge. Falling forwards, he crumpled to his knees. Searing agony raced through his entire body, but he did not care. He was used to physical pain. Two stories below, he heard the crash as his sake bottle shattered on the stone of the courtyard.
Iruka would have hated to see him like this. The last time he was drunk, it was because of Iruka. That seemed like a lifetime ago, when he was still uncertain about Iruka's feelings for him. It was still when he was stupid enough to deny Saki was his son. It was the first time he realized what a powerful hold Iruka had on him, that by shutting Kakashi out, he had broken his heart. Other than that one time, he had not drank himself into a stupor since Iruka came into his life. Why would he have? He had everything he could have asked for and more. With that thought - the knowledge his husband would berate him if he saw him like this - Kakashi found the coordination to slip back into his bedroom where he would be safe from falling two stories and, likely, cracking his head open on the ground as easily as that sake bottle.
Even before his feet hit the wooden floor, Kakashi wished he had picked a different room to sleep in tonight. Out of all the places in the house, this was the one that held the most memories for him. How many times had he watched his husband sleep, just happy to listen to the soft, deep breaths or see the occasional smile tug at his husband's lips as he dreamed? Then there were the nights when Saki ended up in their bed, pushing Kakashi all the way to the edge as he stretched out and somehow took up nearly half of the mattress with his tiny little body. How many times had Kakashi just laid there, a hand on his growing belly as he felt the twins kick and twirl? How often did he suddenly wake up from a nightmare, gasping for air? In those nights, Iruka would be awakened by his shallow, shaky breaths and just hold him. The ease with which Iruka's warm embrace could banish the demons...if only Kakashi had let him try that night instead of going out into the forest on his own!
It seemed like a heroic feat to make his way to the bed that seemed far too large and empty. It was grossly out of proportion for just one adult. Kakashi knew the first thing tomorrow, he would be replacing the large, lonely bed with something smaller and less painful. He would never share a bed with anyone else, so there was no need to keep it. But, for tonight, this would have to do.
Kakashi stumbled towards the mattress, falling into its softness with a strangled sob. He had grown far too complacent. Once, he could have slept anywhere. Now, he had grown accustomed to a warm, soft bed with feather pillows and thick blankets. Curling up to his husband's pillow, he gasped for air as the cries racked his body. With every inhale, he was assailed with Iruka's smell. The clean scent of his husband's soap, the earthiness of his aftershave. Even the mint on his husband's breath taunted his nose, as Iruka never went to sleep without brushing his teeth first.
Slowly, the smell of saltwater began to overpower all he had left of Iruka as he discovered he still had some tears left to cry. Kakashi regretfully pulled his tear-stained face away from the pillow before he completely erased his husband's scent. Rolling onto his back, he closed his eyes to keep the room from spinning around him. That did not help the wave of nausea that suddenly hit him. He felt as though he was on the ocean during a storm, his body rocking and dipping with the choppy waves. Kakashi hated being on boats for a reason. Unsure if he was going to be sick or not, he raced towards the bathroom. Never was he so happy Iruka demanded an adjoining bathroom so that he could take his showers in the morning without having to travel halfway across the Hatake mansion.
As it was, he barely had a chance to fall to his knees before he brought up the little Gai made him eat after the funeral and the alcohol his body had yet to absorb. With every retch, his abdomen screamed in pain, his muscles still trying to knit back together after being ripped apart. Even after there was nothing left to bring up, his dry heaves continued until he felt a strange warmth spread across his lower belly.
Falling back against the cool tile wall, he weakly brought a hand up to cradle his abdomen, not surprised when he felt a sticky warmth slip between his fingers. It was only a matter of time before he pulled some of his stitches. Judging from the amount of blood that had already seeped through the thick bandages around his midsection, he was going to get an earful from Tsunade tomorrow. For now, he did not care. The blood loss would not be enough to be fatal. He could only hope it would be just enough to make him pass out. Perhaps that was the kindest thing he could do for himself. If he fainted from blood loss, maybe he would not dream.
With all the grace of a newborn foal, he somehow staggered back up to stand. Leaning against the vanity, he gritted his teeth against the pain as he washed his mouth out with cool water. Cracking an eye open, he focused his natural eye on the few items his obsessive husband allowed out on the vanity. Their toothbrushes and toothpaste and some soap were among the few things they used often enough to be given a place of honor on the immaculate vanity. Then there was Iruka's shaving kit, something Kakashi was actually quite unfamiliar with until Iruka came into his life. He never had a need to shave. When he started staying with Iruka, some mornings he would wake up early enough to catch his lover in the midst of his morning routine. A long, hot shower that steamed up the entire bathroom, followed by a close shave. Some days, he would just lean against the bathroom door and watch with curiosity and more than a little bit of arousal as his lover wielded that razor as masterfully as an elite jounin with a kunai. He would first sharpen the old-fashioned razor until its single edge was sharper than any surgeon's knife. Then, he would lather his face with soap that left his skin addictive in its scent and softness. Kakashi would watch as Iruka slowly cut away the rough hair that magically grew overnight. Some weekends, he was able to convince his lover to keep the scruff, loving how it scratched at his skin, leaving a reminder of where those lips had been even days later.
As he staggered back to lean against the doorjamb, his Sharingan saw it fit to create one of those mornings. Though he knew it was well after midnight, the room lit up with early morning sunlight as he watched his magnificent husband step out of the steamy shower, quickly wrapping a towel around his midsection. How many times had he snuck up behind Iruka, tearing that offending towel away so that he could admire his husband's body? How many times had that small act ended up in making love to Iruka until they were both exhausted and Iruka was late to school? Thankfully, this was not one of those memories. Instead, he watched his husband as Iruka hummed a soft tune as he shaved, oblivious he was being watched.
That happy little song was what did him in. It was silly rhyme that Iruka had come up with just two weeks ago to help his students remember the Hokages in order. Those children would never get to hear it, much less memorize it in their attempts to make their beloved sensei happy. He could not take the pain anymore. Tearing his longing gaze from his husband, Kakashi stumbled back into the dark, moonlit bedroom. It took several seconds for his eyes to readjust to the lack of light. As he looked around the empty room, he could see Iruka in every inch of that space even without his Sharingan. There was a mountain of decorative pillows on their bed that Kakashi never understood but agreed to to make Iruka happy, now horribly out of place after curling up with his husband's pillow before. Iruka hated clutter, but he had all those damned pillows that had no other function than to look pretty. In keeping with his obsessive-compulsive nature, Iruka also allowed very little out on their dressers, which Kakashi was fine with - less for their ever curious son to get his sticky little hands on. Yet there were a few things that Iruka kept out on the dresser. Kakashi picked up one of the many framed pictures in front of him. A saddened smile tugged at his lips as he looked down at a young Iruka hugging Naruto, who looked to only be four or five. From the looks of it, Iruka must have been mussing his little brother's hair only moments before the picture was snapped for those locks to have such a wild look to them. Though the blonde was glowering at his older brother, probably for playing with his hair, the love in his eyes for that brunet was obvious. To think that small boy grew up into the man he was today, all thanks to Iruka. Tears pricked at his eyes even as he carefully put the photograph back down in its proper place, nestled among framed images of Saki, Sasuke, the ninken pack, and Iruka's students spanning all his years at the academy.
So much of his husband was in this room. It was both a curse and a blessing to have so many things that reminded him of Iruka. In a way, he still had a piece of Iruka here with him. But the silence of the room was like a stab to the heart. Shifting his gaze to the other side of the room, Kakashi eyed the tower of books on Iruka's nightstand, the only other personal items his husband kept out. Slowly, he moved towards the books, and he fingered through the stack. There were several well worn, dog-eared books, obviously some of his husband's favorites. Then there were those that looked brand new, just waiting to be read, but would now remain untouched. Kakashi did not have it in his heart to get rid of Iruka's books; his husband had loved reading far too much for him to ever part with a single one of them.
Kakashi adored watching his husband read anything from a novel to a biography and everything in between. The emotions that played across his husband's face as he read were so vivid, Kakashi could all but tell the story himself though he had never read a single page of it. Sometimes, Iruka would read out loud, his rich voice filling their bedroom as he read from one of his dry, historical tomes in attempts to get Saki to sleep, though it usually backfired and put all three of them to sleep. On occasion, Kakashi had his own book propped up, but the small text from his Icha Icha books would blur after a few minutes as he got ideas from the steamy scenes. And he was always more than happy to make those ideas a reality.
At least for now, there was no illusion to haunt him, reminding him of all those wonderful, domestic moments he had been a part of. Thankful for the small reprieve, Kakashi sat down on the edge of the bed, dropping his head into his hands even as the room continued to spin and wobble around him. There was nothing left in his stomach to bring up, but the nausea was still there, gnawing at his belly and twisting his throat into knots. Running a hand through his hair, pulling back the silver strands from his face, he winced as he encountered several knots in the greasy mess. But he expected as much after living in the hospital the last week. A shower would be a good idea at some point, but he just did not have the energy right now. Nor did he have the motivation to do anything other than hold his head in his hands. He had no tears left, his eyes were gritty and sore, his throat raw from his cries and heaving. Every inch of him ached. His head was swimming, probably from a mix of the alcohol and blood loss. Yet in that moment, he was never so thankful to have his Sharingan.
Kakashi.
At the sound of his name on those lips, that single word laced with concern, he pulled his head out of his hands and looked up at his heaven and his own personal hell. The moonlight was just enough to catch a glimpse of those beautiful eyes, filled with unshed tears. His gaze flickered up to a deep gash over his left eyebrow, remembering the mark Iruka had received before transporting Kakashi back to Konoha. Was it really that deep or was his Sharingan embellishing things? He truly did not care. As his eyes thirstily drank in the brunet before him, he knew his Sharingan, for whatever reason, was giving him this tiny piece of closure.
Had Iruka lived, he could imagine his husband would return home bruised and beaten, covered in blood, dirt and grime. His clothes would be mere tatters, streaked in the same mess that caked his hair and face. Gone a week, his normally smooth jaw would be covered in a thickening beard that Kakashi always thought would be sexy. Apparently his Sharingan agreed.
Had Iruka lived, he would be staring at Kakashi with a pained look that filled those brown eyes right now. Even as he knelt down in front of the jounin, Iruka's eyes welled up, spilling tears down his face, erasing some of the mess covering his cheeks. After all this time, after all those moments he had greedily copied, it was no wonder his Sharingan could recreate things so perfectly, it could even start piecing things together and creating fantasies that, for a moment, he could almost believe to be true.
"'Ruka..." Kakashi's voice cracked with emotion. Even though he knew this was all an elaborate illusion, he still unconsciously brought a hand up to wipe away those tears. Just before he tried to touch his husband's dirty cheek, he froze. He couldn't handle the pain when his hand would pass through Iruka. An illusion had no substance, not for him. For others, the Sharingan could make them believe anything. It could make them feel things as though they were real. For Kakashi, he could see, hear and smell what his eye created, but he could never touch or feel. He could never fully convince himself it was reality because he knew, no matter how realistic, it was just a lie.
"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, his tongue still heavy from the alcohol, as he dropped his head, unable to meet those pained eyes anymore. The guilt tore at him. He was the reason his husband wasn't truly here and that Obito's eye was trying to give him some kind of comfort. His chest ached as he let out a slow, shaky exhale. His hands trembled as he weakly dropped them back into his lap.
Then, as he began to take a deep breath to calm himself before he broke down crying again, he gasped. Perhaps it was the alcohol and blood loss taking their toll on him. Or maybe his Sharingan had evolved and he unconsciously mastered a new ability. He didn't know how it was possible, but he felt it. A warm hand cupped his cheek and lifted his face until he was looking into a pair of glistening eyes.
"Don't...don't apologize. It's my fault...I should have protected you better." Iruka's voice was filled with remorse. Kakashi let out a strangled sob as he brought a trembling hand up to his husband's cheek. Though every fiber of his being told him his hand would just pass through the illusion, he could swear he felt the rough, uneven texture of caked, drying mud on Iruka's face. He could almost believe he felt a warm puff of air against his fingertips as he traced those lips.
His touch trailed downwards, greedily drinking in the coarseness of the hair that covered the lower half of that face. He should have fought Iruka harder and tried to convince his husband to grow a beard when he was still alive. As his fingers continued moving down, he felt it. A strong, steady beat in that column of muscle, a rhythm that Kakashi never thought he would feel again. He did not know how his Sharingan was doing it, but it even gave his illusion a pulse.
As a gentle grip wrapped around his wrist, Kakashi's gaze flickered down to that warm, realistic touch. How he had ached to, just one more time, feel his husband's skin against his own! He let out a strangled cry as he slipped from the bed, landing on his knees before the fantasy before him. Though every fiber of his being said it was impossible, as he wrapped his arms around such a familiar form, he felt his husband's warm chest against his own frozen body.
Every ragged breath from his husband, he could feel as though it was his own. Every heartbeat. Every soft sob as Iruka's head dropped onto his shoulder. He did not care that it was a hallucination. All that mattered was that Iruka's arms were suddenly around him, holding him tight as though Kakashi was the only thing keeping him there.
"Iruka...i-it's all my fault..." Kakashi was starting to understand why his Sharingan was giving him this gift. He needed to admit his role in Iruka's death. Even if he would never hear any response from Iruka himself, his Sharingan could reconstruct his husband so perfectly, it was as though Iruka was right in front of him. He could have the chance to say a final goodbye. He could ask for his husband's forgiveness. Perhaps, it would be the closure he needed so that he could start healing.
"Don't you dare say that!"Iruka whispered harshly, the anger in his voice so...so Iruka that Kakashi had to let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry and held him even tighter.
"But it's my fault...Takeshi killed..." Kakashi couldn't finish that statement. Admitting Iruka was dead aloud, it would only ruin this fantasy. Though he did not say it out loud, the mere thought of his hand in his husband's death was enough to make his eyes burn and his heart ache. Even before the first tear fell, he was abruptly pushed back by a pair of powerful hands on his shoulders.
"It was not your fault! It was that monster, Takeshi, who is to blame." Iruka's voice was tight, his words clipped and flat, as if he was doing his best to hide any emotion. Kakashi looked up into his husband's eyes. Those chocolate orbs were filled with tears that spilled over onto his already soaked cheeks. Kakashi brought a hand up to cup Iruka's cheek, brushing at the wet trail with his thumb. "I-I...Takeshi...he's dead."
"I know." Even in his grief, Kakashi had heard a little here and there about that day, enough to know that what remains Naruto's team did find, they confirmed they could not have been from Iruka. It was little consolation to know that Takeshi was truly gone. The price he had to pay to bury that ghost of his past was far too great.
He could not bring himself to ask how it had happened. How had Iruka killed that beast? How had he fared against such evil? Though the curiosity remained, he did not care. He did not want to hear what, in the deep recesses of his mind, his subconsciousness could come up with. He did not want to hear how Iruka must have suffered.
Iruka opened his mouth to speak, but Kakashi did not give him the chance to elaborate. He pulled his husband against his chest, crushing their lips together in a bruising kiss. Kakashi groaned as Iruka's mouth opened, his brunet's soft sigh filled with so many emotions, he could not hope to name them all. The only one that mattered to him was desire.
His husband's clothes, mere rags that only covered the necessities, did not slow the jounin down an instant. With a loud rip, the tattered remains of Iruka's shirt was thrown to the floor and his chest was bare for Kakashi to hungrily run his hands on. The warmth of his skin, the rapid pounding of his heart, the shallow gasps mixed with hisses of pleasure were addictive as Kakashi ran his fingers along every sensitive inch of a torso he knew better than his own.
"K-Kakashi!" Said jounin happily swallowed the squeak that came out of his husband, deepening their kiss even as he slipped his fingers beneath the only remaining article of clothing that dared cover his husband's body from view. Any attempts Iruka was going to make at protesting melted away the moment Kakashi touched his hardening member. Without any warning, the jounin tore away the remaining scrap of cloth, revealing every beautiful inch of that tanned skin.
Even in the pale moonlight, Kakashi caught glimpses of differences in his husband's once unmarred skin. With a gasp, he broke away from their kiss and sat back on his heels. Scattered across his broad chest were painful-looking gashes. Some were covered in dried blood. Others slowly oozed, having been reopened by the jounin's amorous touch. His muscular abdomen matched his chest, as did his hips, his thighs. It seemed that not one inch of his body had been spared from injury. How had his fingertips not felt the damage before? How had he not realized his husband's hisses were not ones of pleasure, but of pain?
Kakashi dared not ruin the moment by asking what had happened. He did not want to hear how Iruka had suffered before his death. He did not want to think about how his husband had died, but his thoughts could not be redirected. Had the explosion torn him apart, a quick and relatively painless end? Or had he slowly suffocated in the resulting fire, unable to escape as his lungs slowly starved? From the deep injuries that left him bleeding and wincing as Kakashi brought his free hand up to touch the worst of those injuries, he knew what his subconscious had decided on. At least it was quick.
"It's not that bad." Kakashi broke his stare from the bloody mess that had once been his husband's body and looked up into those eyes, which were filled, not with pain, but sorrow. "I'll heal...h-how are you?" Kakashi let out a watery laugh. Of course Iruka would be more worried about him than himself. But how could he answer that question? He was utterly devastated. He had lost his lover, his husband, his best friend. He now was a single parent and had no idea how to raise three children. He was hallucinating his dead husband so that he may have a chance, if only for a little while, to fill that hole Iruka's death had left in his heart.
So he settled for just the physical. "Sore..." he admitted as he shrugged his shoulders, his gaze dropping to the floor as he fought to keep from crying. Iruka had always been good at reading his emotions. A pair of warm arms wrapped around him, cradling him as he weakly slumped against his husband, not caring that his head naturally came to rest on his husband's bloody shoulder. He was a shinobi, gore was a part of life. What made him sob were Iruka's next words.
"I-I'm so sorry...I should have been here with you. You shouldn't have had to go through everything alone..."
If only he knew! But, for now, he was not truly alone. Not as long as he had his husband's arms wrapped around him, holding him as the sobs wracked his body. He had no idea how long he cried, but eventually he could not shed another tear. Finally, he found the strength to pull away so that he could look into Iruka's face, soaked with his own tears. Kakashi brought a hand up to touch his husband's cheek, wiping away the grime until he discovered Iruka's famous scar. Perhaps it was because of the stark contrast of the dark muck that coated his cheeks, but his husband's normally tanned skin and that mark seemed paler than he remembered. His features seemed more tense, a mixture between pain and sorrow that he somehow was reigning in.
Kakashi bowed his head, gently kissing those pursed lips until they softened under his ministrations. As his husband's mouth opened in a sigh, he deepened the kiss. It was a heady mix having Iruka's hands on him, slowly sliding down his back until he slipped them under the hem of his shirt to touch bare skin, at the same time Iruka dominated the kiss, his tongue dipping into Kakashi's mouth with an almost inhuman hunger.
He did not know if it was the switch of their usual roles, the alcohol or the blood loss, but his head swam and the room spun around him. Had he not already been kneeling on the floor, he would have certainly fallen to the wooden boards. Instead, he found himself leaning back as his shirt was lifted away, revealing blood-soaked bandages around his midsection. As Iruka's hands skimmed his now bare torso, his fingers came in contact with the sticky gauze. Almost immediately, Iruka broke their kiss and sat back as he started examining the thick padding drenched in scarlet.
"Kakashi!" How many times had he heard that exasperated tone in his husband's voice over something or other he had done? Had he not already been woozy, his head certainly would have spun as Iruka's gentle touch pressed against his wound, sending spears of agony through his middle. Hissing as he clenched his eyes shut, Kakashi jerked back, surprised at the pain in his abdomen. Perhaps he had done more damage than a few pulled stitches. Before he had the chance to explain the mess or worry what damage he had done to himself, he felt another touch on his middle. This time, there was no pain, but a warmth that spread through his lower body. Kakashi did not have to open his eyes and look down to know that his husband's hand had a healing glow as he knitted muscle and skin back together.
He had no idea how long he laid there, powerless to stop Iruka from healing his physical wounds. He had refused to let Tsunade or anyone else touch him after he came to that terrible day. He knew he would heal without their assistance. He had seen the pain as a way to repent, a constant reminder of what his choices had led to. But, if it made the illusion of his husband feel better, he would do anything the mirage asked. Anything to keep Iruka's ghost here just a little longer.
"Let's get you to bed. You need to sleep." Kakashi's heart sped up in fear at those words from his husband's lips. There was no guarantee that, when he woke up, he could conjure up this illusion again. He did not want to waste a moment of the miracle he had before him.
"No!" Kakashi shook his head violently, wishing he had remembered how his head had been spinning before such quick movements. Groaning, he brought a hand up to his throbbing head as he kept his eyes shut so that he would not have to have the room spin around him. He was not going to ruin his last night with his husband to go throw up the contents of his stomach again.
"You've been drinking!" The accusatory tone in Iruka's voice made him weakly smile. Feeling the room around him settle, he dared to crack open an eye and look at the beautiful man hovering over him. His husband's features softened as he brought a hand up to touch Kakashi's cheek. "You look like you haven't eaten anything either..." A sheepish look came over the jounin's features at Iruka's mothering. Was it really only a few weeks ago he had hated his husband's concern, feeling as though he was suffocating under Iruka's attempts to take care of him? "I've only been gone a few days..."
"Feels like forever," Kakashi admitted weakly as he touched his husband's cheek, loving how Iruka instinctively leaned into his hand, brushing his lips against Kakashi's exposed wrist. That gentle, warm pressure was enough to make Kakashi's heart race as he found the strength to lift himself up until he could press his lips against Iruka's, silencing any other of his husband's worries.
He did not know what changed his husband's mind away from getting Kakashi to sleep, but whatever it was, he was eternally grateful. As weak as a newborn, he did not argue as Iruka gently laid him back down on the floor, only breaking the kiss long enough to pull Kakashi's thin shirt over his head. As the cool temperature of the wood against his back registered in his mind, Kakashi shivered, recalling the one and only time Kakashi had let his husband take control. After that, he had not mustered up the courage to ask Iruka for the one thing that night had made him hunger for. He had not had the chance...until now. As Iruka broke their kiss to trail his lips down Kakashi's neck, the jounin spoke.
"M-Make love to me," Kakashi whispered, his voice raspy from his cries. Iruka jerked back in surprise, his eyes widening as he studied Kakashi's face. He had no idea what his brunet was thinking, but he was not expecting Iruka's words.
"Kakashi...you've been drinking...and after everything that has happened..." His heart plummeted into his stomach. Perhaps it was too much to ask his Sharingan to imagine what it would have been like. A tiny part of Kakashi had hoped Iruka would agree to his request. As he studied his husband's face, he began to understand Iruka's words. When he saw the reason for that denial in his husband's eyes, he laughed weakly.
"You're not taking advantage of me, baka..." he said softly as he shook his head. Only Iruka would think of Kakashi's inebriation and his emotional state. Others would have jumped at the chance Kakashi had given the brunet. But his husband did not want to hurt him. Iruka was the only one who truly could understand how much that request had meant to Kakashi. "I-I didn't get to ask you...before..."
His Sharingan had formed this mirage too perfectly. If only it was just a little off, a little different from the original it was cast from, the next moments would not have hurt so much. Instead, he watched as the brunet's internal debate played out in his face. Disbelief, awe. Desire. Then, there it was. Refusal. Before his illusion had the chance to shatter his hopes, Kakashi made one final attempt to see if his Sharingan could give him such a miracle.
"Please, Iruka...I-I need you..."
Shinobi were taught from their pre-genin years to read underneath the underneath. That included seeing the smallest shift in body language, the tiniest changes in pupil size, in depth and speed of breaths. They were taught to analyze the moisture and tone of a person's skin. Kakashi had mastered reading people. But, as his husband registered those words, the jounin did not need to use any of those abilities.
The only answer he received was nonverbal one. There was no chance to read his husband's eyes or listen for the sudden racing of his heart. He did not get to see if Iruka's skin flushed at those words. His husband's only response was a bruising, searing kiss that made Kakashi's head spin as his very breath was stolen from him. He could not help but smile, thankful his Sharingan could give him tonight.
Groaning, he reveled in the taste of Iruka, of that masterful tongue that dipped into his mouth, teasing him into a frenzy. Dizzy with desire, he wove his fingers into his husband's hair, refusing to let Iruka end that kiss that stole his very breath from him and made his body burn with need. As though he could read Kakashi's mind, Iruka smirked. Kakashi nearly cried out as his husband's hips dropped, grinding against his already stiffening member. Loosening his hold on Iruka's hair, his hands danced across his lover's back, his eyes watering as he felt the unevenness of Iruka's skin. That single scar on his husband's spine was certainly gone, replaced by a patchwork of crisscrosses, of hills and valleys, that gave a hint of the damage he had suffered.
Any thoughts of examining his husband's back further vanished as Iruka's lips left his, trailing down his neck. The scarred skin, one of the many mementos from Takeshi, was far more sensitive to the surrounding, unmarred flesh. It was a fact Iruka used to his full advantage as he kissed away years of pain and fear. His lips brushed against the puckered marks, his beard scratching at the delicate skin until Kakashi could not take any more.
"'Ruka," Kakashi moaned as his back arched involuntarily, which only resulted in his husband gaining more access to his sensitive neck as his head was thrown back. He could feel his husband's lips turn upwards against his skin, which only served to make the jounin's heart beat faster. If teasing his neck was not enough, Kakashi nearly cursed as his husband's warm hand slid down his side, scorching everything in its path. Digging his heels into the floor, Kakashi found the strength to lift his hips as Iruka's fingers hooked around his pants, sliding them down Kakashi's narrow hips.
He cried out as his erection sprung free. He did not even get to register the feel of cool air against his member before his husband's hand wrapped around it, sending searing jolts of pleasure throughout him. With a strangled cry, Kakashi's hips bucked against that delicious heat. Any semblance of intelligence left him as Iruka slowly teased him, the calloused skin of his hand sliding against his cock.
Kakashi groaned, his hips taking on a mind of their own as he thrust into his husband's warm hand. As Iruka's lips continued their trek down his torso, Kakashi somehow kicked off his pants, exposing every inch of his body to his husband's hungry touch. He felt heat in his cheeks as Iruka's rough beard scraped against his abdomen. Gone were the solid wall of muscle and chiseled definition his husband used to love running his fingers along. No longer was his belly rounded from the twins either. He could not even call it a little fat that softened his abdomen. No, any fat he may have put on with the twins was most certainly lost over the last hellish week as he refused to eat, sleep or otherwise start living again. It was skin, stretched to seemingly impossible limits over the last seven and a half months, that now made the jounin blush. Would Iruka still find him desirable even though he had lost his physique?
Iruka did not seem to care that his skin had not yet returned to normal as he grazed his teeth along Kakashi's side. Slowly, Iruka continued to move lower, his tongue leaving a searing trail of heat wherever it went. He whimpered as his husband's lips avoided his weeping member, instead moving to his inner thigh. Those gentle nips at his sensitive skin very nearly sent him over the edge. Gasping for air, the jounin felt dizzy from his husband's ministrations. Just his husband's slow, teasing stroke of his member was enough to make him breathless. Added to the torture of his teeth and tongue mapping out his body, it was too much to handle. At this rate, Kakashi was not going to last very long. Somehow his husband knew that. Suddenly, Iruka's hand and lips were gone, leaving Kakashi moaning in frustration.
"I'll be right back."
Kakashi all but snarled at those words as his husband's weight on top of him disappeared. He listened, hearing the soft patter of Iruka's feet on the floor beneath him. A squeak told him a drawer had been opened in the direction of the nightstand. When he realized why Iruka had so abruptly stopped, his cheeks burned in embarrassment. He had done innumerable depraved acts over the years, but the mere thought of his husband getting lube was enough to make him blush furiously.
"I-Iruka?" His voice wavered as he listened for his husband's quiet movements, but the room suddenly fell silent. Afraid his Sharingan had failed him and the illusion was broken, a single tear slipped from his natural eye. It was too painful to think that he almost had that small dream come true. Just once, he wanted to be able to give himself completely, to show Iruka that he trusted him more than anyone else. To show that he was no longer governed by his past and that he had laid those demons to rest.
"I'm right here." Kakashi swallowed back a sob of relief when he heard his husband's voice off to his side. His Sharingan had not let him down. Though still dizzy from a mixture of the alcohol and his husband's ministrations, he opened up his eyes to watch as Iruka knelt back down between his pale legs. Even in the dimly-lit room, Kakashi's Sharingan could make out his husband's features. His heart ached as he studied his husband's injuries. If this had been real and not just an elaborate illusion, he would have demanded Iruka go to the hospital to get looked at. He would have forced his husband to get into the shower so Kakashi could wash away the caked-on mess that covered his husband so that he could see just how severe his injuries were. But this wasn't real. And, just once, Kakashi wanted to be selfish. That did not stop him from gently touching his husband's marred chest, careful not to reopen any more wounds as his fingers made their way down to wrap around his erection, already slick from lubrication.
"Y-You're sure about this?" Iruka asked, his voice little more than a hiss as Kakashi began to slowly stroke him. His husband's question made his heart race as he broke out in a sweat. After so many years of being essentially a whore, Kakashi knew just how to touch a person to send them into a frenzy. He knew just what angle to thrust as he screwed his bed mate. He knew just how tight his grip needed to be to bring his male lovers to completion. He knew the perfect tempo to make his partner breathless. He could make them scream and beg with ease. He knew everything there was to know about being in control. But this time, he felt so lost, so far out of his comfort zone, that he very nearly spoke up to stop his husband even before Iruka had a chance to begin.
Biting his tongue before he could betray himself, he fought to control his pounding heart and gasps for air as his husband pulled away from his teasing touch. If possible, his pulse sped up even more when he felt Iruka's warm touch against his entrance. Reflexively, his body tensed and jerked away from the relatively foreign sensation.
"Kakashi...we don't have to-"
"Don't stop," he softly demanded before the ghost of his husband tried to convince him otherwise. To further convince his brunet, he shifted his hips, pressing his body against those lubricated digits. He would not let his past dictate his life any longer. Even though he had made his decision, he still hissed as the first finger pushed past that tight ring of muscle. Swallowing back his nervousness, he moved his hips, further impaling himself. His husband took that as a cue that Kakashi was not going to change his mind. Any further protests melted away as Iruka slowly began to stretch him.
His body exploded in sensations each time his husband's finger pressed against his prostate. Refusing to let this time end like the last time Iruka tried to be seme, he gritted his teeth in attempts to maintain some semblance of self-control. Instead of losing himself in the positively sinful sensations his husband was awakening in him, he focused on the man in front of him. Sitting up slightly, he captured his husband's lips, kissing the brunet with all the love he had.
Weaving his fingers into Iruka's hair, he deepened their kiss. Though unaccustomed to his husband's beard scratching the sensitive skin of his cheeks and lips, he found the feeling addictive. He groaned as his husband broke the kiss, relocating his attentions to Kakashi's neck. Even as Iruka's gentle nips and licks sent his head spinning, he was not so far gone to miss the addition of a second finger. Hissing at the unfamiliar sensation, it took all his strength to keep still when all his instincts were telling him to stop this. Any pleasure he felt before disappeared as he fought the urge to pull away.
"Kakashi..." The concern in his husband's voice was enough to bring tears to his eyes. It was a good thing he never tried this with the real Iruka - his brunet would have blamed himself if he caused even a moment of pain. Though, it was not truly pain that made his heart race and his body to break out in a cold sweat. He knew pain. This was something else entirely. This was unease, anxiety, and even fear that made his hands tremble as he gripped his husband's wrist before Iruka thought to remove his fingers.
"Don't stop," Kakashi repeated softly as he kept his husband's hand still. His kissed those pursed lips until Iruka groaned, deepening their kiss. Slowly, his body relaxed to the foreign sensation as his husband's kisses washed away his fears. His grip eased from Iruka's wrist as he tilted his head back, reveling in the sharp pricks as his husband's beard scratched his neck and torso in a torturous trek downwards until he felt a warm breath against his member. A moan bubbled up in the back of his throat as Iruka's lips encircled him, his warm tongue teasing Kakashi to the brink of sanity. Gently weaving his fingers into his husband's thick hair, he rocked his hips, searching for more of that delicious warmth.
Kakashi nearly screamed as Iruka bobbed his head, taking all of his cock into that hot cavern before pulling back, creating a powerful suction as his tongue ran along the underside of his member. A dizzying jolt of pleasure hit him as he felt his husband move his fingers, slowly stroking him. With every gentle thrust, the movement became easier as his body relaxed, finding a rhythm that matched his husband's. His body felt like it was on fire, sticky with perspiration as though he had been training for hours. He could barely breathe as his body exploded in sensations that left him trembling. Even as Iruka continued to suck his cock with that masterful mouth of his, his fingers stretched him until Kakashi could only moan and gasp for air, far beyond the ability to form coherent words to beg his husband to stop tormenting him. Somehow, Iruka understood. The brunet pulled back, releasing Kakashi's member, but not before one final swipe of his tongue against the head of his cock, teasing a bead of liquid from his aching erection.
"You're sure about this?" Not positive he could form a single word, Kakashi nodded his head at that breathless question, finally sure of something since he woke up a week ago. He needed Iruka - he needed this. His earlier fear was a distant memory as he laid back against the wood floor. The wood, though warmed by their body heat, still made him shiver as the cool hardness pressed against his bare, flushed skin.
When Iruka pulled back, he almost hissed at the lack of those fingers, but lost the ability to breathe as his husband's fingers were quickly replaced by his member. Though Iruka had done his best to prepare him, Kakashi winced as his husband's cock pushed past that ring of muscle, stretching him to his very limits. He kept his eyes shut tight to prevent the tears he could feel pricking his vision. He bit down on his lip to keep from making a sound. His heart raced and his breathing hitched as Iruka continued to slowly push forwards, filling him completely.
"Kakashi." He cracked open an eye at the sound of his name on Iruka's lips. Seeing the concern in his husband's eyes, he could not help but smile. He could read the brunet's face like an open book. The level of self-control Iruka wielded was visible in the tenseness of his features and the trembling of his arms. Kakashi knew just how much willpower it took not to just thrust into him, to take his own pleasure. How many times had he been a cad over the years, ignoring his bed partner and just satisfying his own desires? But never had he placed his own needs over Iruka's. He had made sure to please his brunet lover over and over again.
"I-I'm sorry...I'm a little rusty at this," Iruka said softly as he brought a hand up to run his fingers along Kakashi's cheek. Leaning into his husband's warm touch, he reveled in the feel of those callused fingertips against his skin. "I-If...if you want me to st-" Quickly propping himself up on his elbows, he silenced his husband with a kiss before Iruka could mention stopping. He deepened their kiss, running his tongue along those perfect teeth and soft lips until Iruka opened his mouth. Kakashi gladly gave over control of the kiss as Iruka's tongue dipped into his mouth. Iruka wove his fingers into Kakashi's hair as he let out a groan.
Gingerly, ever careful of his husband's injuries, Kakashi's fingers danced along his skin, touching every inch he could reach. He mapped out the unfamiliar landscape of his husband's back and torso, etching each and every unevenness into his memory. As his hands moved down his husband's back, he could feel every muscle as it tensed, reacting to his very touch. Iruka always did have a sensitive back. Suddenly, he found arms pinned to the floor, his wrists over his head, held in his husband's tight grip. Iruka broke their kiss, leaving Kakashi panting for air.
"Keep doing that...and I won't be able to control myself."
Kakashi very nearly whimpered at the downright sinful tone of his husband's voice. He had never heard Iruka so demanding before. Unable to help himself, he smirked as he shifted his hips to press his erection against his husband's muscular abdomen. That same movement forced Iruka deeper inside him. Instead of the pain he had known in the past, he moaned at the sheer pleasure.
"I-I'm not a-asking you to," he somehow got out as he repeated that small movement, whimpering as he felt Iruka's cock move inside him, creating a glorious friction. His body took on a mind of its own as he continued to grind against his husband. He could feel Iruka's body tremble above him, fighting to maintain control. With every shift of his lower body, he could feel the tensing of his husband's entire frame, the tightening of his grip on Kakashi's wrists. Watching his husband's beautiful face, he could see the perspiration break out on Iruka's forehead and the flush of his dirty cheeks. He watched as Iruka's jaw clenched and released, as though that would keep him from retaliating from Kakashi's underhanded manipulations.
He knew the instant Iruka's willpower finally snapped. With a cry, Iruka pulled back. Kakashi did not get the chance to mourn the feel of his husband's cock inside him before Iruka surged forward, filling him completely. Kakashi gasped as he was momentarily blinded from the overpowering sensations that overtook him. This was not the pain as he was torn apart by Takeshi and his lackeys. No, it was anything but. It was the heat of his husband inside him. It was the trust and love he felt for the man who, even now, somehow had enough awareness to be careful not to hurt him, to not push him too far too fast. It was the delicious friction as Iruka slowly increased his tempo until Kakashi was crying out with every thrust.
Kakashi tried to match his husband's unforgiving pace, but all of this was new to him. It was almost as though he was a nervous virgin, unsure what to do. The angle was different, the feel of Iruka inside him sent every intelligent thought out of his mind, even the rhythm was not one he set. And he loved every minute of it.
He loved the sounds - the slap of flesh, mixed with gasps and pants. The smell of sweat. The taste of Iruka as his husband littered his face in kisses, too breathless to deepen those kisses. Then there was what he felt. Words could not describe all of the sensations running through him. However his Sharingan was accomplishing this, he knew he would be visiting the Memorial and thanking Obito at some point for giving him tonight.
"K-Kashi..." Kakashi whimpered at the sound of his name on Iruka's tongue. He could hear the need in those few syllables; he could hear that Iruka was getting close. Suddenly, his wrists were free and Iruka's hand shifted to wrap around his own aching member. Kakashi bucked at the feel of Iruka's touch, crying out as his husband stroked him in time to his thrusts. Bolts of such pleasure it bordered on agony shot through him as his back arched, his head falling back against the floor. Instinctively, his legs wrapped around Iruka's narrow hips, pulling his husband closer, deeper.
Gasping for air, he wove his fingers into Iruka's hair, holding his husband's head still as he pillaged his mouth, kissing him with every ounce of love he had. He couldn't hold on much longer, not with that masterful hand touching him, not with Iruka deep inside him. "'Ruka...I...a-ah!" Kakashi stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence as he felt his orgasm building. He cried out, tightening his hold on Iruka even before the first wave hit, coating his belly in warm fluid. Mere seconds later, Iruka's thrusts became erratic until he cried out, burying himself deep inside Kakashi as his cock throbbed, filling him with his seed.
Kakashi fell back against the floor, his body limp as though every bone in his body had melted. After a moment, Iruka collapsed on top of him. His weight at any other time would have been crushing. Right now, it was the greatest comfort to wrap his arms around his husband's sweaty frame, running his fingers along quivering muscles. Nuzzling against Iruka's neck, he listened to the brunet's gasps for air. He was deliriously happy to simply feel the expanding of his husband's chest as his breathing eased and the rapid pounding of Iruka's heart against his breast.
"Sh-shit..." Kakashi could not help but crack a smile at his husband's hoarse groan. It was not often he could get Iruka to swear. His husband must have enjoyed himself. Then again, it seemed that Iruka had wanted to make love to him just as much as he wanted his husband inside him. If he could see Iruka's face, he was sure there would be a bright red streak across his cheeks and nose. His brunet would be blushing furiously if for no other reason than he had just made love to Kakashi on the floor when their bed was mere feet away. Then again, the thought of breaking apart, even for a moment to relocate to a more comfortable place, obviously never crossed Iruka's mind.
As though that thought just hit him, Iruka suddenly propped himself up, proving Kakashi right. The ruddy color of his cheeks was impossible to miss, even with the mud caking his face. "I-I...I'm sorry...the bed...floor..." Kakashi chuckled at his husband's stammer, kissing those lips before Iruka could further stumble through an unnecessary apology. His Sharingan had the memory of Iruka teasing him on the floor the other week - the closer he kept to his memories, the more realistic his illusion would be. Or so he theorized, which was why he was more than happy to have those cool floorboards against his back as Iruka took him.
"You don't have to apologize," Kakashi said softly as he brought a hand up to touch his husband's cheek. "And, if you didn't notice, I liked it." That statement brought on a whole new shade of red to Iruka's face. Kakashi could not help but find his husband's innocence arousing. If he had any energy left, he might have acted on that. As it was, he could only muster the effort to smirk perversely, which only worsened that blush.
"I-I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No." And that was the truth. Kakashi was surprised to learn that, other than those few moments of fear and discomfort, he had loved every minute of it. The intensity of unfamiliar sensations running through him. The rush of having Iruka be in total control. He did not have flashbacks of that month he was a captive. He did not snap and harm his husband. If anything, this had washed away what few demons he had left.
He wished he had had the strength to have asked Iruka for this before his passing instead of having to settle for a detailed, lifelike illusion. Kakashi gently cupped his husband's cheek, brushing away the grime to expose skin that was all together too pale for Iruka. Then again, he could only imagine what kind of toll those injuries had taken on him.
"I'm sorry...I'm a mess. I should go take a shower," Iruka admitted quietly as he shifted to sit up, pulling his spent member from his husband. Kakashi immediately tightened his grip around him, refusing to let the brunet go. He could not let his dream end just yet.
"Stay here...just a little longer," Kakashi pleaded, tears pricking his vision at the thought that his fantasy was going to end. He did not want to ever let Iruka go, but he knew it was all too good to be true. His brunet would be gone by morning. He would wake up alone tomorrow and would continue to do so for the rest of his life. But for now, he could lay with Iruka in his arms. That would have to be enough.
Iruka laid down back down at that simple request, taking only enough time to pull the comforter off the bed. Wrapping the thick blanket over them, he curled up next to Kakashi. The jounin sighed in contentment as he rested his head on Iruka's shoulder, careful not to put too much weight on his injuries.
"Where's Saki?"
"With Naruto and Sasuke...after...after the funeral...I needed some time alone," Kakashi said, amazed that he did not break down crying with that admission. His eyes teared and his voice caught in his throat, but for now, it was not a stab to his heart. Iruka's arms tightened around him as the brunet's sobs filtered into his ear.
"I...I'm sorry...I should have been faster..." Kakashi winced at those words. No matter how fast Iruka had run, he would not have outrun those bombs. He only had to glance down at his husband's mangled chest to remind himself of that fact. The wounds he had reopened had stopped bleeding for the moment, but the streaks of fresh blood remained, painting his once unmarred torso crimson.
"It's not your fault," Kakashi stated as he lifted his gaze up to his husband's darkened jaw. Gently, he touched Iruka's jaw and lower cheek, running his fingers along the prickly stubble. "You look good with a beard," he whispered as his fingertips continued to slide up Iruka's cheek, meeting the wetness that matched the soft sobs that continued to wrack his husband's body.
Iruka gave a watery laugh at the beard comment. "Maybe I'll keep it." Kakashi smiled sadly at that. Damn his Sharingan for making an illusion that thought he had a future! Closing his eyes against the onslaught of pain for everything he and Iruka had missed out on, he took a shaky breath. As he opened his eyes again, he found his lids were growing heavy.
Shaking his head, he shifted, trying to rid himself of the urge to sleep. He wanted to spend every moment possible with Iruka. What were a few more hours of sleep deprivation? Even as he tried to fight it, Iruka brought a hand up to cup his cheek, lifting his head up so he could brush kisses over his eyelids.
"Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
If only that were true! Laying his head back down on Iruka's chest, he let out a sigh. For whatever time they had left, he could enjoy the warmth of Iruka's arms around him and the feel of his husband's fingertips tracing designs in his back. Water filled his vision as he realized just how much he was going to miss this. He was going to miss his husband's gentle touch and the simple pleasure of being in his arms. He was going to ache for their easy conversation, for Iruka's unique sense of humor. He would hunger for Iruka's laugh. He would do anything to have just one more ridiculous fight with his husband, just to ruffle his feathers. But, most of all, he would miss hearing those few wonderful words from Iruka's lips.
"I love you, Kakashi."
Even before the first tear fell, he brushed his lips against his husband's chest. "I love you too," he whispered. Iruka was the only person he had ever said those words to - and Kakashi knew he would never find a love like this again, nor did he want to. Nothing could ever compare to the short time he had been blessed enough to have Iruka's love. That was what hurt most of all, knowing he would be alone the rest of his life. Before Iruka, he was fine with being by himself, not relying on anyone else, not caring for them. Now, he knew that his life before Iruka was not truly living. He had merely existed until that fateful night a brunette had bumped into him. Despite his best attempts, Kakashi found himself starting to drift off, lulled to sleep by the steady beat of his husband's heart, knowing that in the morning, he would be alone again.
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